


More Than What You See

by Starlight1395



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Blood, Depression, Domestic Fluff, Drug Use, Drug withdrawl, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor Character Death, Self-Harm, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence, character injury, domestic bonding, radiodust - Freeform, self-deprecating thoughts, slightly ooc?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 77,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25565617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlight1395/pseuds/Starlight1395
Summary: Angel Dust was a lot of things - a whore, a sinner, and a pornstar just to name a few - but he wasn't stupid. He knew things weren't right, but he was also fully aware that there was nothing he could do to change it. Hell was truly a place of misery, no matter how much it may seem like a paradise for sinners at first glance.As he sobers up, Angel starts to realize the isn't able to keep up with the physical and emotional drain that his career forces him through, and finds he's falling farther and farther behind what he used to be. The others want to help, but he doesn't trust them - he CAN'T trust them. After all, you can't trust anyone in Hell.
Relationships: Alastor & Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust & Charlie Magne, Angel Dust & Cherri Bomb (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust & Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 161
Kudos: 641





	1. The Initial Break

Angel pushed his way through the front doors of the hotel. The entire drive from the studio back to his ‘home’ was spent praying that no one would be awake to see the pitiful state he was in. His fur was matted and tangled with... he didn’t want to name everything that had dried through his fur and into his skin. His right eye was swollen to the point where it was almost completely shut. That eye was always more sensitive than the left one, and of course that was the one that teared up more, making it the perfect target to make him seem even more pitiful during filming.

All he had to do was make it upstairs. Then he could bathe and comb out the knots in his fur and go to sleep. He didn’t have work the next day - lately, he’s only had to go into the studio every other day. Val said it was because he was working hard but Angel knew it was because Val was letting his clients be rougher, and he didn’t want his best star to break just yet.

It disgusted him. He disgusted him - not Val, who saved him from being eaten alive the moment he arrived in hell. Not Val, who offered him protection in exchange for a few small, harmless favors. Not Val, who called him pretty but only after Angel was reduced to a sobbing pile of limbs, or when he was too drugged out to fight back. No, Angel Dust was the one that disgusted him.

He shouldn’t be this damn weak! He had been doing this for decades, yet he still ends up stumbling home like a used ragdoll at the end of the day.

The staircase leading up to the first floor of rooms came into view and Angel fought back another wave of tears. All he had to do was get to his room, but that required climbing said flight of stairs and the thought of doing that made his stomach roll. He couldn’t throw up in the lobby though, because the last time he did Niffty got on his ass about just how many types of fluids had stained her carpets.

“Angel! There you are!” An overly chipper voice called over to him, bouncing off the hardwood slightly. Angel closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and by the time he turned around his usual crooked half smile was in place.

“Hey there Toots,” He grinned at Charlie, who was bouncing over to him. “Whacha still up for? I thought Vaggie gave ya hell if ya stay up too late.”

“Oh, she’s already asleep!” Charlie’s smile didn’t fade. It was almost too bright to look directly at. “I just- holy hell, Angle what happened to you?”

Now the smile faded. She finally got a full view of Angel and her heart stopped. He looked like he had been hit by a bus, his usually shining white fur was stained and clumped together with different colors. His eye was swollen shut, and his bottom left arm seemed to be hanging limply at his side.

“Oh you know how it goes,” His grin didn’t falter. “When ya say ‘more’ they always deliva.”

“Angel...”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it Charles, it ain’t like I ain’t used to it,” He chuckled, but it was too resigned to be belivably lighthearted. “But if you’ll excuse lil’ old me, my bath is a-callin my name.”

“Hey, if Val’s hurting you-” She put a hand on his shoulder, only to rip it away when Angle flinched. The crooked smile dropped, replaced with a look of pure horror that lasted for all of one second before he was heading up the stairs.

Charlie watched him go, a bad feeling settling in her chest.

Angel sighed. He had been so close to making it to his room without a problem but of course the Princess just had to be disgustingly chipper this late at night. A traitorous part of his brain hissed at him.

_She’s the princess_

_She has more pull than Valentino._

_She could null your contract-_

He shook his head, chasing the thought away. When he first came to live at the hotel, he had humored the impossible chance of Charlie being able to use her influence of being Hell’s one and only Princess to get him out of his eternal contract, but after seeing how the rest of Hell’s residents reacted to her Happy Hotel project, Angel knew Val would just laugh her into a second afterlife.

Then he would slaughter everyone in this godforsaken hotel. Not that Angel really cared - he was just here for the free room and food - but the thought of Val killing Charlie and Husk and Niffty and even Vaggie or Alastor...

He sighed again. His head hurt too badly for this.

“Ah, it seems you have finally decided to rejoin us.” Alastor’s static filled the hallway, causing Angel to pause. He could see the door to his room, the faint pink light of his vanity shining underneath, making the red carpet glow. He was so CLOSE.

“Al~” he purred, tilting his head so his bangs would cover his bruised eye. Not that Alastor was the type to care about his well being, but with the way his luck has been going this fine evening, this would be the ONE TIME the Radio Demon decided to stick his nose in Angel’s business. “Not very gentlemanly of ya, cornering a poor ‘elpless damsel on the way to ‘is room.”

He could hear himself slurring his words, his exhaustion hitting harder and harder with every moment he had to stay upright, but he hoped Alastor wouldn’t care enough to dig into it. His knees shook and he had to lock them tight to keep them from giving out completely.

“HA very amusing, my friend,” Alastor’s grin stayed on his face. Angel’s pain-addled mind wondered - not for the first time - what the shorter demon would look like with a wider range of emotions, rather than just ‘creepy smile’. “I couldn’t help but notice you are coming home later these days.”

Angel bit the inside of his cheek. He wrapped three out of four arms around himself, the fourth hanging with a shattered wrist at his side. So Alastor calls the hotel home too, huh?

“Ya know how it goes baby,” He grinned, winking his good eye. He noticed Alastor blink rapidly for a moment and the tension in his chest lessened a little. If he kept up the act for just a little longer, no one would know. Good thing everyone just expects him to be a shameless whore. It made his performance easier to put on. “They just can’t get enough ‘a me! And how am I supposed ‘ta deny such lovely fans?”

“Hm, I do believe our definition of lovely is wildly different!” Alastor exclaimed. If Angel closed his eyes, he knew he would have been able to hear faint music playing in the background of the other demon’s static.

It was one reason he liked spending like with Alastor. Not just because the Radio Demon’s reactions to his flirting were amusing - when was the last time someone actually shied away from his advances? - but also because if he wanted to hear the music he had to focus, which meant he didn’t have to think about everything else that usually bombarded his brain at any given moment.

“Well, as enlightening as this conversation’s been, I gotta turn in for th’ night,” Angel hoped Alastor would take the hint and let him slip by. He was so close to his room that it ACHED. “My fur don’t stay fluffed and shined on it’s own ya know.”

“Hm, I was noticing how your appearance is more disheveled than usual!” Alastor didn’t blink at that. Angel wasn’t too fond of when Alastor spoke without blinking. It unnerved the spider greatly, and there wasn’t much that spooked him now-a-days. “I take it your line of employment has not been as fun as usual?”

“Who said it ain’t fun?” It was meant to be a teasing question, but came out a little bit too defensive, and the instant it left his mouth, Angel wished he could take it back. “Uh, night Alastor.”

“Good night, Angel Dust,” He stepped aside, his grin almost different than usual. “Do not let the hell bugs bite~”

When Angel glanced over his shoulder, Alastor was gone. He suppressed a shudder as he let himself into his room. He knew Alastor was a demon worthy of the fear he commanded, but sometimes the things he did left Angel’s skin crawling.

Fat Nuggets came running up to him, spots glowing with happiness that their dad was back from being gone for so long. For the first time in many hours, Angel felt a genuine smile grace his face. Leaning down, he scooped his pet into his arms, only flinching a little when the action pulled at the various aches deep in his bones.

“Daddy’s home baby.” He pressed his forehead against Fat Nugget’s, letting their warm breath fan over his cheek for a moment. It was grounding, feeling the pig’s familiar weight in his arms. Fat Nuggets was the one thing in Hell that he genuinely loved.

He plopped the pig onto the bed, not caring that their spines caught on the bedding and left a small rip in the fabric, before heading to the small bathroom. Having his own bathroom - with a door that locks - was probably the biggest blessing from this whole hotel situation, as ironic as that sounded.

As the bath filled, Angel looked at himself in the mirror. No wonder Charlie didn’t buy his faked charm - he looked about as bad as he felt. He knew most of his physical wounds would be healed by morning, but he also knew the ache deep in his chest would linger until his skin hurt worse once more.

The scent of his favorite soak filled the steamy air as he poured the oil into the bath. He subconsciously locked the door as he clicked on the small radio Charlie had given him. He always avoided the news channels, but there was one that only played soothing music and as much as he hated to admit it, he came to rely on the tunes to forget about the hell he was living. He peeled off what was left of his clothing, tossing the ripped, stained fabric into the trash bin, he stepped into the scalding water.

“Fuck...” He hissed, the heat both making him relax but also tense from the sudden rush of pain against his sensitive skin. After a moment of being submerged, the heat began to feel almost euphoric. He leaned back and let his eyes close, his breathing matching the gentle music floating through the thick air.

He could feel himself drifting off to sleep and forced himself to sit up. Angel took his time, working the soap through the tangles and soaking the matted crap from his fur before rubbing a healthy amount of oils through it to keep it soft and knot free. The only time he liked being touched was when he bathed himself, because he knew nothing bad would happen to him there. This was his Angel time. No one could touch him here.

Before he was ready, the bath water began to cool and he could hear Fat Nuggets scratching at the bathroom door. With a heavy sigh, Angel rinsed himself off completely before pulling the plug. He lost himself in the sight of the water - a shimmery pink, shimmery from the bath oils and pink from the blood he had to scrub off his person - only blinking when there was nothing but white porcelain staring back at him. He barely realized he was moving, his body going through the actions of turning the radio off and towel drying his fur as best as he could without the hairdryer.

Angel hummed a lyricless song under his breath as he left the bathroom and sat at his vanity, his towel wrapped around his slim, bruised hips. Fat Nuggets came over and Angel used one set of hands to pull the pig into his lap as he used another to grab his hair dryer. He took turns between fluffing his fur and gently putting it on the cool setting to keep Nuggets feeling included. Eventually, both he and Fat Nuggets were dry and ready for bed. He pulled on a pair of his favorite panties - one of the few pairs that he owned that didn’t have even a whisper of lace or mesh - and an oversized shirt that brushed along his knees as long as he didn’t raise his arms.

Curling into his bed, he was eternally grateful towards Charlie once more. Before coming to the hotel, he very rarely fell asleep in a bed that wasn’t crusted with one thing or another, but here his sheets were always soft and smelled faintly of some flower he couldn’t name. Fat Nuggets huffed as he forced his way into Angel’s arms, who held him close. He felt a small lick on his cheek and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

  
“About time you woke up,” Vaggie was the first to notice Angel entering the dining room the next morning. “We were about to throw your plate out.”

“Mm, sorry ‘bout that Toots.” He yawned and ran a hand through his bangs, which were still a little flattened on one side from where they had squished into his pillow. He was still wearing his pajamas, his shirt covering more skin and fur than his normal work outfits ever did. He sat in his usual seat, not caring that he was practically sitting alone. They all had unspoken assigned seats at the far too long dining room table. His just happened to be at least two seats away from anyone else.

“Hey Angel, you alright?” Charlie asked, and as much as Angel appreciated her concern, the last thing he wanted to deal with was the pity in her voice.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He asked, nibbling on something. He didn’t even bother to see what it was because it all tasted like ash that morning anyway. He kept his bottom hands resting in his lap - even if his wrist practically healed, it was still sore and he knew it would stay sore for a few days at least.

“Well, after last night...” She looked away, fiddling with the end of her hair. Angel’s stomach rolled as he felt eyes turning to him.

“You know me,” He plastered on a lecherous grin. “Sometimes a fella needs a little time ‘ta recover after such a rough, looong night~”

“Ugh, can’t you go one morning without being disgusting?” Vaggie snapped, her mouth curled down in a sneer. Angel’s grin became sharper.

“What for?” He asked, sending a wink in her direction. “Where’s th’ fun in that?”

“There’s no point in arguin,” Husk sighed playing with the food on his plate. It looked like he ate about as much as Angel had. “He’s always gonna be like this.”

“Like how?” He really was slipping, wasn’t he? What was supposed to be playful, or flirty, or teasing came out as sharp and accusing. Everyone froze, forks halfway to mouths and eyes wide. Angel wanted to shrink in on himself, but he kept his shoulders back.

Like his Father used to tell him, weakness is first seen in a person’s body language. If they’re beaten down but hold their head high, they still have a chance. Now, it wasn’t any kind of motivational speech or anything - his Father had been telling him that as young Anthony lay on his bedroom floor, trying to pinch off a gushing nosebleed. His Father wiped his knuckles on a handkerchief and refused to look at his son. He had gotten sick and tired of his son being such a faggot bitch. He warned the boy the next time he saw weakness in him, he wouldn’t hesitate to teach him a lesson.

“Ah, it’s good to see so many friendly faces on this fine morning!” Alastor seemed to walk out of a shadow, looking dressed to the nines as usual. It didn’t matter how late into the night or early in the morning you caught him - there was never a wrinkle nor hair out of place to be seen. “Oh? Did I... interrupt something?”

His smile grew and Angel knew that he knew what he walked in on, but was egging them on. Every time Angel started to think huh, maybe Alastor wasn’t as bad as everyone made him out to be, the shorter demon turned around and did some sadistic shit, all in the name of his own entertainment, and Angel forgot any positive thoughts he might have had.

“They were talking about how Angel’s a whore!” Niffty chirped as she licked her fork clean, her one eye large and sparking as it tended to be. Angel gripped his fork tightly, not noticing the metal digging into his palm.

“What pleasant breakfast conversation!” Alastor said, the static behind his words slightly louder than usual.

“Look, we can’t help it when he comes down here dressed like that, even on his off days...” Husker pointed to Angel’s oversized shirt with close to no emotion. Angel’s throat stung for some reason.

“I just wished he would try to take this hotel seriously for once!” Vaggie all but spat. “All he does is parade around, flaunting the fact that he thinks this is a joke! That he thinks WE’RE a joke! And for what? So he can get fucked? So he can keep doing drugs?”

“Vaggie-” Charlie looked at her girlfriend in horror.

“No Charlie, you know exactly what I mean,” Her face softened, but her scowl never completely vanished. “Even you’ve been doubting him!”

“Princess...?” Angel didn’t know why he felt like he had been punched in the stomach at the realization.

“No! No Angel it’s not like that,” Charlie looked close to tears as she glanced between Vaggie and Angel. “I believe in you! I do! I just... I want you to succeed so badly! And I worry sometimes that... that-”

“That I’m gonna to embarrass ya cuz I’m just a stupid slut?” Angel filled in, laughing cynically. “That I’m gonna ruin the already SHINING reputation of this dumpsta fire of a passion project cuz I can’t keep my pants on?”

“Angel-”

“I know what ya all think ‘bout me!” He thundered, standing and slamming his fork down on the table, making all the other plates rattle. Everyone was staring at him in silence. No one made a single sound as he continued. “I’m just a dumb whore who’ll put out for any dog face that has a few clams, right? That I wake up every damn mornin thinkin to myself how exciting it’s gonna be to get plowed into a bed by someone I don’t know? You must really think ya got a read on who I am, cuz fuck! I don’t even know that Angel Dust as well as ya apparently do!”

“Angel please-” Charlie had tears running down her cheeks, but the sight just fueled the anger burning through his chest.

“NO! You don’t know SHIT about me-” He screamed, throwing his plate at the wall in a fit of rage. The sound of shattering porcelain broke Angel from his rant. He stared at the stain setting into the wallpaper, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. His hands shook but when he looked around he wasn’t in the hotel anymore.

He was back home. He was young - thirteen, maybe. His mother was cowering in the doorway. Molly was trying to stop crying. Father was throwing plates and glasses and silverware at anything he could. He didn’t know what was happening. They had been having a pleasant family when his Father’s special work phone rang. His Father had gone to answer, only to come back mere minutes later and start trashing their dining room.

That wasn’t the first time Anthony had seen his Father take his anger out on his family, and it certainly wasn’t the last either.

“O-oh fuck...” He took a shaking breath as he realized he wasn’t at his childhood home, but at the hotel. He realized it wasn’t his Father throwing plates but rather...

He was.

He felt the few bites of breakfast trying to make a reappearance. As much of a sinner as he was, the one thing Angel promised himself was that he would NEVER become like his Father. He could have sex for money, murder, fight, cause property damage, steal, lie, do as many drugs as he could get his hands on, like men - any and all sins he could get his hands on - but he would never resort to being like his fucking Father. Any yet there he was, acting exactly the way his Father used to.

“I’m- I’m s-sorry...” His breathing began to pick up. He felt a hand on his arm and all but threw himself away from whoever it was, feeling safer pressed against the wall like a kicked dog hearing its owner returning home.

“Angel...” Charlie looked at him, her hand still raised.

“I’m going to my r-room,” He whispered, letting his bangs cover his face. “I’m sorry.”

He rushed from the room as fast as his long legs could take him, slamming his bedroom down behind him and locking it tightly. As a secondary thought, he pushed the small bookshelf that held various knick-knacks and porn magazines in front of the door. He knew Charlie had a key, and he really couldn’t handle facing anyone at the moment, least of all the Princess.

Fat Nuggets huffed up to him, bumping his knee with their snout. Angel smiled for a moment before choking back a sob. He pulled the pig into his arms and let himself cry, focusing only on the warmth of his pet and the soft music that seemed to be coming from somewhere unseen. Before long, he fell asleep like that - sitting on the floor with his back against the mattress and his legs pulled up to his chest.

When he woke up, he realized he was in his bed. He didn’t remember slipping under his covers, but he settled back against his soft pillows and let the headache overtake him.

He hated crying, because it always came with an ache bad enough to make the world blacken around the edges.

After a few minutes the headache began to fade and he found he was able to sit up. On the side table were a bottle of water and... painkillers? In a flash of panic he glanced over to the door, but the bookshelf was still firmly in place.

Angel debated for a moment, but the dull ache still bombarding him was enough to override his hesitation and he downed the pills easily. He checked his phone and saw his day off was already halfway over. It was always near the end of his days off that he started feeling... odd, and he could tell that it was going to hit soon. He hated that the feelings reminded him of the days of AGONY that he suffered through after his first real detox. Now THAT was more punishment than anything else.

The thought of going into work the next day made his eyes sting, but he sucked it up. It wasn’t like he had a choice! And besides, he loved his job! He loved feeling wanted and desirable. He loved feeling beautiful, even if it ended with a few more bruises than when he went in. He loved his job, so why...?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to think about that. Instead, he went over to his vanity and sat down, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked the same as always, if not a little more exhausted than usual, so why could he barely recognize himself? Why was his reflection suddenly a stranger?

Angel did the only thing he knew how to do when things got this bad. He pulled out his phone and called one of two numbers he had memorized. After a moment, a sharp grin filled the small screen.

“Hey Angie!” Cherri grinned at her friend, her one eye barely fitting fully in the shot.

“Hey Cherri,” He smiled, softer and more genuine than before. He propped his phone up against the mirror. “I hope this ain’t a bad time...”

“Nah, I was just fucking around,” She said, her expression dropping minutely at the tone of her friend’s words. “What’s up man?”

“Just a rough day,” He sighed. People speculated if Hell really was Hell, because it seemed like a paradise for sinners rather than a punishment, but the longer that Angel stayed clean from drugs the more he realized they were wrong. This was Hell, because the only real happiness you were allowed to feel was synthetic and all other times were soaked in the thick, meaty tang of suffering that no number of bathes or injections could wash away. “I was just... I just wanted to talk for a little bit... I have this clay mask I wanted to try and...”

“You don’t wanna be alone?” Cherri filled in, her smile dropping. She had been his friend since she fell down to Hell. They’d been through everything together - turf wars, attempted murders, drug deals, withdrawals, beatings... She was his only real support. Fat Nuggets was the only thing he loved, but Cherri was the only demon he genuinely trusted with his life. He knew she wouldn’t sell him out, and in this world, that’s the highest honor one could have from another person.

“Mm.” He hummed, pinning his bangs back with a few pink hairclips. He tried not to wear his bangs back often, because he felt like it made his face look too small.

“Well, you’ll never guess what happened earlier!” Cherri rambled on as Angel applied his mask - he does them often, the clay conditioning his fur and brightening the coloring of his face - but this was a new one. He really liked the way it smelled, and it didn’t feel too slimy, unlike other masks he had tried in the past.

He listened as he took his time, painting on the clay as if he were trying to cover a bad painting with a fresh layer of white, giving the canvas a second chance at being art. He supposed he was like a canvas, but one where the bullshit already painted on was so horrific that no amount of white paint would ever be able to cover it up.

* * *

Angel couldn’t feel his arm. He was shaking so violently that his teeth chattered, blood splattering the studio carpets. The only thing he could comprehend was Val’s words, but even they sounded like they were coming through a layer of static.

“It’s okay now,” Val said. “Daddy’s here now. Daddy will make you feel better. Daddy got rid of the bad man, okay?”

All Angel could do was whimper. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. It was just supposed to be a normal scene, but the demon kept getting rougher and rougher. Even when

Angel called out ‘lantern’ no one did anything to stop the scene. Val only started shouting when the sound of Angel’s ribs cracking filled the air of the studio. His screams turned from pained to complete agony as the demon ignored Val. The next crack was his arm, breaking at the elbow. By the time Val’s henchmen were able to drag the demon off, Angel knew he was fucked. Concussion, judging from how his head was ringing and the room was spinning. His arm was useless, and he couldn’t take a breath without agony shooting through his body. He tried to curl in on himself, to hide away from the pain, but he realized his lower half was soaked. Cracking one eye open, all he could see was crimson coating the once white sheets.

“Angel cakes?” Val’s voice sounded watery, like he was talking from the bottom of a pool or maybe Angel was the one at the bottom of a pool. “Can you hear me?”

“D-daddy-” He sobbed, the pain flaring. He couldn’t remember ever being in this much pain at once, even when he had been punished after botching a drug deal back when he was alive and working for his Father.

“Don’t worry, that man is going to get everything he deserves for hurting my Angel,” Val cupped Angel’s face. Angel could never remember Val being so gentle with him before.

“Here, this will ease the pain...”

He didn’t even register the prick in his arm, rather the only thing he could feel was the cool rush that flooded his body and calmed the raging wildfire of pain that was eating away at him.

“Daddy’s sorry Angel Cakes,” Val’s face faded in and out of focus. “You know I love you, right? You know I just want what’s best for you.”

“Yes.... daddy...” he knew Val didn’t like it when he didn’t answer his questions.

“Someone take him back to that damn hotel!” His voice was getting fainter and fainter as the coolness spread. “Clean this.... Don’t let... can’t lose..... Best money maker.... Two weeks...”

Angel let his eyes flutter closed. He didn’t want to hurt anymore.

“You’re awake!” A loud voice all but screamed in his ear. Angel instantly whined, his entire body vibrating with pain. He wished he could go back to sleep.

“Charlie, shh,” A second voice spoke. “He definitely won’t be up for loud things right now.”

“Oh, sorry Vaggie,” Charlie whispered. Angel felt a hand running through his bangs. He shifted and took stock of his wounds. The night before faded in and out of his memory, but the broken bones remained no matter how much he forgot. His ribs were broken - at least two of them - and his chest was bound tightly to keep him from jostling them too much. His arm was in a cast of sorts, resting at his side. He would need a sling if he wanted to keep it from hurting even more. There was a bandage on his forehead, but at least he could see out of both eyes this time. “Angel? How are you feeling?”

“Like ass,” He groaned, his voice deeper and rougher than anyone had heard it. “What time is it?”

“Uh, almost lunch.” Charlie sounded like she was hiding something. Angel tried to guess how long he had been unconscious.

“How long was I out fa?” He was grateful that the lights in his room had been dimmed. He wondered where Fat Nuggets had gone, but was also kind of happy the pig wasn’t there. He didn’t want Nugs to see him like this.

“Almost two days,” Vaggie said softly. Angel didn’t like Vaggie talking so softly. The woman was more suited for being loud and authoritative. Hearing her so gentle - so lost - didn’t sit well with Angel. “Some of Valentino’s henchmen dropped you off at the front door at dawn yesterday. It’s been about thirty five hours...”

“Oh.” Angel didn’t know what to think about that.

“Uh, there was a note pinned to your shirt...” Charlie chuckled, but it was clearly the kind of chuckle that meant if she did anything other than chuckle she would burst into tears. She handed the slip of paper to Angel, who scanned the familiar handwriting.

_Angel Cakes~ I’m giving you the next two weeks to recover. Daddy promised to take good care of you, so you better not do anything to scar the goods. You are to check in every once in a while so I know how your condition is. I expect you back in the studio at the end of this two weeks._

He didn’t sign it, but he didn’t have to. Angel would know Val’s writing anywhere. His chest had warmed at first - Val really did love him - only for it to be instantly doused. Was that all he was? Goods to be sold? But Val said he loved Angel. Val said he wanted what was best for Angel, because he cared about Angel. But he couldn’t even be bothered to wait to make sure Angel made it inside? He left Angel bleeding out on the doorstep of the hotel?  
Angel’s head hurt.

“Is Angel Dust wake?” Niffty poked her head in, her eye widening at the sight of the spider sitting up in his bed. “Oh! Angel! Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” He felt more sick than hungry. “Thanks though.”

“We’ll send something up later, okay?” Charlie sounded as though she felt that if she spoke any louder, Angel would shatter. Niffty glanced between Angel and Charlie for a moment before scurrying away, leaving the doorway empty.

“Mm.” He wanted to cry, but it seemed his eyes were dry.

“We’ll let you rest,” Vaggie put a hand on the back of Charlie’s shoulder, nudging her towards the door. They both started to leave when Vaggie paused and turned back towards Angel. “And... I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“For what I said at breakfast the other day,” She looked away, her grey skin seeming greyer. “It was... out of line. I was just frustrated and... and I thought you were just doing all of that to mock us... I guess I didn’t think that you were- that you were hurting too.”

“It’s aight,” Angel offered her a small smile. Normal Angel would have heckled her a little, asking to get someone to record it so Vaggie couldn’t deny it happened, or try to needle her into doing a favor for him if she really was that sorry, but he just didn’t have the willpower for that. He barely had the energy to sit upright. “I don’t blame ya. Sluts like me don’t have alotta real feelings otha than horny and high.”

“Angel, that’s not-”

“Come on,” Charlie seemed physically pained at how flippant Angel was being. “Angel, just call if you need anything, okay?”

“Aight Toots.”

They left, closing the door behind him. The room was almost unnervingly silent, but at least his head didn’t feel like someone put a milk frother into his eye and went to town with it quite as much anymore.

The faint sound of static was the only warning he was given before another presence made itself known in his room. Angel didn’t even have to open his eyes to know who it was.

“My dear Angel, I was most upset to see your condition,” Alastor’s voice was softer than usual, the static surrounding it was calming, like white noise, rather than the normal nails-on-chalkboard feeling it gave people. “I have come bearing a gift that may ease your recovery.”

“Why do ya care?” He found himself asking. He knew the Radio Demon had no affection for him - not that he held much affection for anyone at the hotel, but he had even less for the spider who constantly made inappropriate comments that bordered on harassment more often than not.

“Because, I have taken responsibility for this disaster that is this hotel, and if some horrible fate were to befall one of my patrons, it would be like a good show being cancelled too soon.”

“Right... th’ whole entertainment thing.” Angel wanted to sleep. Maybe if he was lucky he wouldn't wake up for another few days. He shoved his face in his pillow. The static seemed to spike for a moment before settling again.

“If you were to need anything, I am sure our charming demon belle would be able to whip up anything you might crave.”

“Mm, thanks Al.” Angel didn’t look up from where his face was still buried in his pillow.

Alastor didn’t respond again, and Angel suddenly couldn’t feel the shorter demon’s presence anymore. He wondered what Alastor had brought that was supposedly to help his recovery, but his question was answered as he drifted off to sleep.

Grainy music danced through the air, just soft enough to soothe the emotional pain in his chest as he felt his eyes grow heavy. It was nothing like the music that came from his own radio, which was clearer and was only heard by his ears. This music seemed to be heard with his soul, like a gentle hand caressing his cheek.

Angel drifted off, wondering why Alastor would do something like this for him. He hoped the morning would be better. He wondered what the next two weeks would bring.

He feared what the next two weeks would bring.


	2. Only the Beginning

Angel woke up feeling like fucking shit. His entire body ached - his head, arm and ribs being the worst of the list, but he could feel pings of pain from his thighs - both in the form of bruises and muscle strain - and his lower back. He sighed, knowing this was going to take a few days at least before he was going to be able to move without wanting to keel over. Normally he healed quickly, but there were just too many injuries at once. He rolled over and stared at his ceiling, going over what happened in his mind.

Val had let him get hurt - no, Val saved him. Val pulled the guy off him - he was dropped back off at the hotel. He was given two full weeks to recover.

Wait.

He was given two WHOLE WEEKS to recover. He couldn’t stop the wide grin from growing on his face, even if it pulled at the bruises on his cheek. Two weeks away from the studio. Two weeks without needing to slather makeup on his face for people who wouldn’t appreciate it. Two whole weeks where he could go to sleep at night without fresh wounds keeping him up.

Angel Dust hadn’t been this happy in a log time. Ironic, seeing how it stemmed from being... well...

He shook his head. He wasn’t going to let that ruin this for him. Checking his phone, he saw it was almost time for breakfast. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he realized he wouldn’t be able to pull on his socks without his ribs hurting, leaving him at an impasse. Go downstairs barefooted, or suffer through the pain of putting something on.

His feet really weren’t sexy at all, and it bugged him. He was the incarnation of lust itself, so having fuzzy spider paws instead of claws like most demons had made him self conscious. Who would take him seriously if they saw? He had done everything in his power to keep this particular piece of shame hidden from the public eye, but now-

Angel Dust’s eyes widened a fraction. He had tried so hard before, but now? Now he didn’t have to care. Every single person in the hotel had made it quite clear they would rather play in the streets during the next extermination than be on the receiving end of his particular kind of... affections. There was no one here who would find him less appealing because of his stupid paws. There was no one here to judge him.

He stood on shaking legs. His hips ached, but it was more of a shadow of an ache than anything else. His ribs were on fire, but the tight bandaging definitely helped. He was lucky that he was already wearing a pair of soft cotton sleep shorts, because he knew pants were just as off the table as socks were. Going to his dresser, he opened the top left drawer - left drawers were for more comfortable, less flashy clothes. The right side was dedicated to lace and leather and sequins. There, on the top, was one of his favorite sleep shirts. Because lifting his arms was also a no-go, Angel grabbed one of the few long-sleeved button ups he owned, which was a light blue with white stripes. He couldn’t remember if he had purchased the pajama set, and Cherri stole the bottoms or if Cherri had done the buying and he had stolen the top. Either way, they shared the set.

The shirt slipped on without much trouble, three of his arms sliding into the sleeves while the fourth remained in a sling, leaving the final sleeve dangling loosely at his side. He didn’t bother trying to button it up, leaving the front open to showcase the thick bandaging around his torsp and the ugly white sling.

Looking in the mirror, Angel felt the whole situation hit him again. It was like his chest had started collapsing in on itself, stealing the breath from his lungs. If it weren’t for a soft snuffling by his ankles, he may have stared at himself without actually seeing anything for hours before breaking out of it.

“I’ll bring you something good for breakfast.” Angel wanted to lean down to pet Fat Nuggets, but knew better. He settled for blowing the pig a kiss before heading out of his room to go towards the dining room. He could hear faint chatter, telling him that the others were already gathering to eat. He padded silently through the hall, his soft paws making no noise against the carpeting as he went. It was odd, not having the signature click of his heels match his long, light gait.

“Alright, so we just need to set the table and call the others down!” Charlie’s voice greeted him before he even entered the room. Standing in the open doorway, he could see the only people awake were the Princess herself, Vaggie and Niffty. It wasn’t all that surprising that the other two were absent, seeing how Husk tended to sleep in when he had a hangover, which was most mornings, and Alastor, who didn’t technically live in the hotel with them.

“We should check on Angel soon.” Vaggie said, putting a napkin next to one of the plates. She sounded... tired. Angel was used to hearing her sound fired up, like she was always ready to fight for one reason or another. Sometimes she was a little too ready to fight, but he realized quickly it was because she just wanted to protect Charlie. He didn’t get why Vaggie would go to so much trouble for another demon - that was, until he caught them together one night, a few weeks after he came to the hotel.

They were sitting together out on the balcony, the large stained glass doors cracked open. He had peeked through, wanting some sort of blackmail material, but instead saw the two leaning against the railing. Vaggie was resting her head on Charlie’s shoulder, the blonde whispering to her sweetly. The two would pause to giggle every few seconds, as if they were sharing secrets no one else was allowed to know.

Angel felt like he was intruding. Never in his entire time in Hell - and he had been here for decades - had he seen something so... genuine. So innocent. When Vaggie looked up towards Charlie, capturing the Princess’ lips in a chaste, gentle kiss, Angel knew he couldn’t watch anymore.

Someone like him didn’t deserve to see something so loving.

“Good news,” He said, his voice missing it’s usual nasally edge. “Don’t hafta go ta all that trouble for lil’ old me.”  
Both Charlie and Vaggie jumped, almost throwing what they were holding with a small scream. Vaggie seemed to gather her wits first and gave Angel a frazzled look.

“How did we not hear you come in?” She asked, having been one of the ones to complain that Angel’s heels were too loud and scuffed the floors.

“No shoes.” He said simply, hiding the pit in his stomach with a nonchalant tone.

“No...” Vaggie looked down and saw he was, indeed, not wearing shoes. Her eyes widened at the sight of the paws, not having expected Angel Dust to look so... cute.

“Angel!” Charlie chimed in before Vaggie could make any more comments. “Good morning! How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Angel wished he had the energy to grin and joke and brush off their concern, but he was exhausted both physically and emotionally. He wondered faintly how he managed to keep up his performance for so long. How hadn’t he broken years ago? How did he manage to go so long before cracking under the pressure? “Uh...”

“You look better,” Charlie continued, and Angel was grateful for the interruption. He didn’t know what he was going to say next, and if he hadn’t been stopped he might have said something pathetic to make them pity him more. The last thing he wanted was his frien- from the other patrons at the hotel to treat him like he was going to break if they said something too harshly in his direction. “I was going to come wake you up and see if you wanted any help changing the bandages or getting dressed. I know moving might not be the easiest at the moment...” She trailed off, her bright smile fading a little.

Angel’s chest warmed. His imminent instinct was to brush off her offer and try to make some lewd comment about not being into girls unless money was involved to get her to back down, but he found himself... touched that someone cared so much about a lost cause like him. He sat down, flinching when the movement bent his torso just a little bit too far.

“Thanks Toots,” He said, looking anywhere but at the Princess. “But I got it handled. This ain’t the first time I’ve been beat ya know. I can work arounda few bruises.”

“On the contrary!” Alastor said suddenly, making everyone jump. Angel bit back a whimper when the sudden tensing sent a spike of fire through his battered body. Alastor either didn’t notice his discomfort, or didn’t care that his surprise entrance caused the taller demon pain. “A few bruises? HA! No, my friend, you must know better than anyone that this is more than a few bruises!”

The static around his voice, which had once given Angel a headache, had become comforting in a way. He had died in the 1940’s, so radio was a huge part of his childhood. He remembered sitting with Molly and their Mother by the family radio, listening to mystery shows while they waited for their bedtime. It seemed the Radio Demon unknowingly gave Angel the gift of nostalgia.

“Eh, it’ll heal soon enough,” He shrugged lightly, and found he was almost proud that he was able to do it without much pain at all. “No need ta getcha panties inna twist.”

“What sort of undergarments I wear has nothing to do with you!” Alastar’s static seemed to spike, and Angel let out a single huff - a poor excuse for a laugh, but he really wasn’t in the mood for a jolly old chuckle at the Radio Demon’s expense that morning.

“Yeah, yeah sorry.” Angel’s shoulders slumped. It was more a force of habit to heckle the others than a conscious action. As much as everyone seemed to think he did, Angel didn’t actually enjoy making others uncomfortable. He had been in the same position too many times to find joy in using sex to pressure others.

“Here Angel!” Niffty seemed to materialize right next to Angel’s elbows, once again making the poor spider jump. “I brought you coffee! I remembered what Huskie told me!”

“Ah, thanks honey.” Angel took the cup, surprised to feel that it was cold rather than hot. Taking a sip, he couldn’t help the light moan that rumbled from his throat. The other’s stared at him with wide eyes, not having expected that from the spider.

“Is it... good?” Charlie asked, trying very hard to keep her voice from cracking.

“This might be the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he said, almost in tears. It was almost impossible to find a good cup of coffee that wasn’t as dark and bitter as most of the residents of hell themselves, but Niffty had added extra cream and sugar to the cold beverage, and for a moment Angel humored the idea of selling what was left of his soul to the small demon if it meant getting one of these every morning. “Fuck.”

It was then that Angel’s eye did begin to water a little. Holding the cup of coffee in two hands, he realized this was one of the first things since coming to hell that made him genuinely happy. Even when he was alive, he had very little. His life was filled with death and bribes and drug trades, while his death was nothing but being sold and pumped full of the shit he used to kill overs over. His entire existence has been nothing but pain and guilt and regret. He would have been hard pressed to name more than five things that he genuinely loved. He was miserable, and he had always been miserable - like a stranger in his own skin. He felt out of place in the mafia, always too soft and empathetic for his Father’s taste, and too scared in the porn industry, unable to say no in any situation, no matter what. He had never once felt comfortable as himself.

“Angel?” Charlie asked softly, placing a hand on the spider’s shoulder gently. He hadn’t realized he had started crying until he saw something dripping into his drink.

It was fitting, he thought to himself. The coffee was too sweet. Too good. He needed to make it bitter because that’s what he deserved. That’s all he ever did - turn good things sour. Just look at the hotel.

“It’s just... really good.” he whispered, sounding like a child. Fuck, when was the last time he was allowed to act like a child? He had gone on his first mission at the age of twelve.

“I have to say, my dear,” Alastor said, his eyes and wide smile trained on Angel, who looked over at him with tired eyes. “You look ravishing in blue.”

“What?” Angel blinked, completely thrown off guard.

“He’s right Angel!” Charlie chimed in. “You look good in pink, but blue looks nice too!”

“Oh...” Angel glanced down at himself, suddenly feeling self conscious for some reason, which was definitely a foreign feeling to him at that point in his life in hell. Two of his hands tried to button up the shirt some while the third held his cup, but he found himself biting the inside of his cheek. That type movement would have pressed his chest fluff together had it not been bound tightly, which also meant it tugged at his side.

“You don’t have to go through this alone you know,” Vaggie said with a huff. She seemed to have materialized in front of Angel and buttoned his shirt for him. He blinked, and she must have sensed his confusion. “Look, I know you get on my fucking nerves, and you get on mine, but we’re in this together. This is a hotel of misfits, if you haven’t noticed, but we’re misfits together. Charlie brought us together for a reason, and even if it’s... hard to see that reason sometimes, I know there’s one somewhere.”

“Thanks...” Angel didn’t like this feeling. He felt too full, like something was crawling around his chest, taking up room where his lungs and heart were supposed to be.

“I swear ya keep making this bullshit earlier and earlier...” Husker came shuffling into the dining room, his eyes still firmly shut and his wings dragging behind him.

“Good morning Husk!” Charlie turned her bright optimism towards the final member of their mismatched family.

“Too loud...” Husker growled, cracking one eye open as he plopped down into his chair, instantly resting his chin on the table.

Now that the attention was off of Angel, he was able to take a metaphorically deep breath. He sipped his coffee, and found...

It wasn’t any more bitter than before, even with his tears mixed in.

* * *

“Hey Angel?” Charlie approached the demon in question, who had moved to the couch in the lounge, closest to the fireplace that shone with warm, green flames. He was scrolling through his phone, sitting upright rather than sprawled across the cushions like he normally did while wasting time in the lounge. It was only a little while after breakfast, so he hadn’t taken the climb up to his room to change. Niffty had volunteered to bring Fat Nuggets down for his breakfast, and the two were off causing trouble somewhere else in the hotel.

“What’s up Toots?” he asked, looking up from his screen. She saw he was playing some sort of puzzle game, which surprised her a little. She never took Angel to be a puzzles sort of demon.

“I, uh, talked with Vaggie,” She said with an awkward chuckle. Angel, having a weird feeling about this, locked his phone and placed it on his lap. “We, um...”

“It’s aight Princess, ya don’t hafta walk on eggshells.”

“Well, we agreed that it would be alright... seeing how this is extenuating circumstances... that if you wanted something to help the pain...” She trailed off a little tapping her index fingers together. “We still have the stuff we confiscated when you first came to the hotel, so if you wanted some I could get it for you. Though, this is a one time thing!”

She finished quickly, as if afraid Angel would get the wrong idea and go on a drug binge.

Angel’s eyes widened as he comprehended what she was offering. There was a part of him that screamed and raged to say YES - the old Angel Dust that was still inside of him that craved the sweet release from his own thoughts, who needed the high to function and didn’t want to be conscious of his actions anymore. Despite that part of him, Angel just offered the woman a tight smile.

“I appreciate it, Toots,” He said with a huff of a chuckle. “But, ah... I’ve actually been clean since... since the whole turf wars incident.”

“What?” Charlie sounded completely blindsided, and Angel didn’t blame her. He hadn’t even done it for the hotel, or for himself. In reality, Cherri had been the one to confront him, just after the fight, saying she was worried. Angel was being more reckless than usual and putting himself in danger at higher frequencies. She said he needed to cool it, or he was going to end up in a place worse than Hell. Of course, she wouldn’t have shown even a hint of that kind of concern to anyone else in the nine circles, but Angel Dust was special to her, and she didn’t want to lose her best friend to drugs.

“I’ve done that too many times before,” She had said, her one eye trained on the rubble of the building they had just destroyed. “I don’t got much in this place. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me since I got here, you know?”

So of course he did it for Cherri. It killed something inside of him to picture Cherri all alone again, not a single soul to call on when things got sticky. The first two weeks had been the hardest, but he managed to suffer through his withdrawals either with Cherri on her stained mattress with her claws carding gently through his bangs, or locked in his own room with the sound of the radio and showering going to cover the sounds of him throwing up.

No one knew but Cherri, himself and Fat Nuggets. And now Charlie.

“I ‘preciate the offer Princess, but I’d ratha not get hooked again,” He looked at the fire, which crackled with a language of its own. “Withdrawals are a bitch.”

“Angel... I had no idea,” She sounded guilty. “Did you... go through it on your own?”

“Sometimes I went to Cherri’s but yeah, most of it was on me.”

“I’m sorry,” She said, and before he could comprehend what was going on, Angel felt arms wrapping gently around his neck, avoiding his ribs and broken arm. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone. I should have helped somehow-”

“It ain’tcha fault Charlie,” He patted the back of her head with one of his free hands. It seemed he was comforting her more than she was comforting him. “Ya couldn’t’ve known. I was very sneaky ‘bout it.”

“Don’t hide anything anymore, okay?” She pulled back. She wasn’t crying, but he could see how her eyes were shinier than usual. “You can... you can rely on us!”

“I think I’m startin to see that Babe,” He grinned, his golden glinting in the firelight. The grin was playful, but not suggestive. Angel found it felt nice to not have the unneeded sharpness to his features. “You should go find ya Moll.”

“My who?” Charlie asked, her head tilting to the side a little and not for the first time Angel thought she looked a lot like a puppy.

“Ya dame,” He chuckled. “I’m sure Vaggie will be surprised at the news that the lost cause managed to kick addiction.”

“You’re not a lost cause!” Her confusion over his outdated slang was quickly replaced by a frown.

“If ya keep butterin’ me up like that, I’ll be expectin’ a ring soon.” He laughed, and it was light and filled with mirth rather than sarcasm and hate.

“Angel...” Her face softened. “Thank you.”

“Huh?” He blinked. “Fa’ what?”

“For... giving yourself a chance,” She placed a hand on the top of his head and ran her fingers through his fluff softly. Angel resisted the urge to lean into the touch. “I know it wasn’t easy, but I’m so proud of you.”

Angel froze, his eyes wide and unblinking as he registered what she had said. No one had been proud of Angel, and the only time he remembered anyone being proud of Anthony was when...

He had been given a solo mission when he was sixteen. He couldn’t bring himself to kill the guy and his family, as he had been ordered to. The guy only owed a couple hundred dollars, which wasn’t enough to forfeit the lives of his entire household. Anthony had managed to smuggle them from the country without anyone finding out. The only person who knew was Molly, who had told him how proud she was of him for following his morals. If anyone discovered what he had done, it happened after he died.

“Be kind to yourself Angel.” Charlie said softly before leaving the spider alone once more. He picked his phone back up and started to input his code only to pause.

It was only the second day of his two week vacation, yet he was already starting to feel a little restless. Normally he only had a single day to unwind before having to go back, but now time seemed to roll itself out like an endless red carpet for him to walk.

He can’t leave the hotel in this state, and if he was being honest he preferred to stay in anyway - the less he went out, the less he would be touched and hollered at. He didn’t do drugs anymore, and Husker would only give him so much alcohol a night, as per Charlie’s orders. He only had so many books, and his phone can only provide so much entertainment.

Angel felt his foot start to tap restlessly. Was the whole two weeks going to be like this? Like a tunnel where he couldn’t see the end?

“I’ll ask Al if he ‘as any books or somethin.” He muttered to himself, slipping his phone into the breast pocket of his sleep shirt and stood. He was pleased to find he could take a slightly deeper breath now. Hopefully he’d be pain free by the end of the week. Looking around, he realized how empty the lounge was. Husk wasn’t at the bar, Niffty was somewhere with Nugs, Charlie was wherever Vaggie was and Alastor... Well, the Radio Demon didn’t spend a lot of recreation time with them anyway.

Angel made his way out of the lounge and towards the kitchen, where Alastor was known for loitering. As he had hoped, Angel heard someone in there and started his short journey there.

“Ah!” The familiar static washed over Angel as he walked in. Alastor was by the stove, his jacket nowhere to be seen and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. Angel was a little surprised to see sleeve garters holding the fabric back, and distantly wondered when exactly the Radio Demon died. “Perfect timing, my friend!”

“Oh?” Angel carefully pulled himself up into one of the chairs at the island counter that filled the center of the large kitchen. He could see several bowls in various stages of use scattered around, and whatever the deer demon was cooking smelled amazing.

“Yes! I need a victim to try this for me!” He grinned, spinning around to face Angel.

“I’m goin ya ignore ‘ow you said ‘victim’ and agree with whateva you’re makin.” Angel chuckled. Alastor emitted a laugh track without opening his mouth, but unless Angel was mistaken, the smaller demon did seem pleased. His smile wasn’t nearly as blood curdling as usual.

“Just a simple recipe, my dear!” Alastor stirred whatever was in the large pot on the stove a few more times before scooping a small portion into a plate. He handed it to Angel, who looked at it with only mild suspicion. “It’s the jambalaya I promised! It took twisting and arm and a leg to get the right ingredients but you’ll never be able to call me a liar!”

“There’s no people in this, right?” Angel remembered what sent the other demon to hell in the first place, just as he was about to take a bite. Alastor just laughed, his grin looking suspiciously cat-like.

“Of course not, my furry friend! What would be the point of wasting such delicacies on those who cannot appreciate them?” he asked, sending Angel a wink.

“Well, if that’s the case.” Angel huffed a laugh. Alastor’s odd sense of sarcasm was definitely growing on him.

It tasted even better than it smelled. Angel didn’t eat a lot of overly spicy things. Everything he ate while alive had spices in them, but nothing that burned his tongue quite like this. It was painful, but a good kind of painful - it gave it a kick that he found he actually enjoyed.

“Well?”

“It’s fuckin’ great!”

“I’m glad to hear it!” Alastor said, turning back to the stove. Angel ate his food in silence, chewing slowly. Alastor didn’t try to break the silence, which Angel appreciated.

“Hey Al?” He called after a few minutes.

“Mm?” Alastor hummed, acknowledging Angel’s call.

“Thanks.”

“It’s no problem! I do quite enjoy cooking, and this kitchen truly is fit for a demon!”

“Well, for the food,” Angel stabbed the last shrimp but didn’t eat it. “And for, uh, not treatin me any differently, ya know?”

“I see no reason why I should treat you differently, my effeminate friend!”

“I guess. Everyone’s just been so nice and it’s kinda makin my skin crawl. I’m not used ta anyone being nice to me.” Angel said it easily, because it was true. Why would anyone be nice to a whore?

“I must admit,” Alastor said, his voice sounding almost strained. “I was most distressed when you were found.”

“What? Why?” Angel raised a single eyebrow. His questions weren’t accusatory in the slightest - in fact, they were asked in pure confusion.

“This hotel and everyone in it are under my protection, you see,” Alastor explained easily, as if simply giving someone the time. “I’ve invested much into it, and to see that someone else touched, nay, beat something under my domain? It simply won’t stand!”

“Ah, gotcha...” Angel gave his empty bowl a tight smile. Of course Alastor was concerned - he was investing his time to watch them all fail and they wouldn’t be able to fail for his entertainment if someone else were to beat him to it. Of course he didn’t care about Angel for the sake of caring about Angel.

“That being said, my dear,” Alastor broke Angel’s train of thought. “Does this sort of thing happen... often, in your line of work?”

“Mm, yeah I guess,” Another chuckle. “I usually get the worst of it though.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m Big Vee’s favorite toy,” He scowled, his lip curling around his fangs. “I gotta be the example so the others don’t act up. Besides, Val literally owns my ass, so ‘e can do whateva ‘e wants with me.”

“Owns you.” He didn’t phrase it like a question, but rather like he was testing the words out for himself.

“Yup. He found me when I first spawned and tricked me inta signin a contract with ‘im. Didn’t know what I was doin, ya know? I just got ‘ere. The last thing I remembered from my life was... well, dyin. I’m suddenly an eight foot spider monsta. I don’t got a single clue what the fuck is happenin. Then comes along Valentino, offerin’ a place to live and steady income... ‘ow could I say no ta that?”

“It does sound as though you were put in a... difficult situation.” The static around Alastor’s voice seemed to soften, but his face didn’t change at all.

“Hey Al?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Do ya consciously do the static thing?” He had been wondering that for weeks now, but never really had the chance to ask.

“Partially conscious, partially motivated by my emotions,” Alastor explained as he piled the dirty dishes into the sink for someone else to deal with. “As much as it pains me to admit, I do still have those pesky things.”

“What, emotions?” Angel let out a genuine chuckle at the obviously faked pained expression on the other demon’s face.

“Yes, quite the tragedy, really,” Another round of the laugh track. Angel wondered if it was the same track every single time, but refrained from asking that one. Maybe another day he’ll uncover more. “Is there a reason behind your sudden curiosity?

“I mean, it ain’t sudden,” Angel shrugged as best as he could. “I actually kinda like it.”

“Like it?” Alaster’s eyebrows raised into his hairline, his smile only faltering for a moment.

“Yeah. I don’t got many good memories of my life, but the times that me ‘nd my sis were able ta listen ta the radio were some a my favorites,” Angel let a soft smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Back before everythin’ went ta shit, we would sit in the livin room and listen ta the mystery ones, where ya ‘ad ta listen every week to find out who the killa was. Once Pops got me inta the family business though... I didn’t get much time fa games.”

“I must say, your backstory sounds far more interesting than I would have anticipated. May I ask for more?”

“What? Uh, sure I guess.” Angel blinked. He didn’t think his life up on the surface was anything too spectacular - especially compared to demons like Alastor. What would a serial killer cannibal possibly find entertaining about some shitty mafia kid?

“Let me start with a question for you,” Alastor said, eyes almost glowing with anticipation. “When did you die?”

“1947, drug overdose, but that’s probably obvious ain’t it?” Angel chuckled, the movement making his ribs pang.

“Ah, what a coincidence,” Alastor’s grin widened. “I happen to be from the same era! My demise was merely fourteen years before yours.”

“Whadda the odds?” Angel grinned back. “We were alive at the same time! Where were ya from? Maybe I heard a ya.”

“Ah, I was born, raised and died in New Orleans,” Alastor said with a hint of pride in his crackling voice. “My only regret is that I was caught so soon. I was only just beginning to have my fun.”

“I was from New York,” Angel tried to think back but didn’t remember hearing anything about a serial killer from the south. “First generation Italian family. Very traditional. Very no-nonsense.”

“You mentioned a family business?”

“Yeah, Pops was pretty powaful in the mafia back in Italy, so when ‘e went ta America ‘e brought the powa with ‘im. A course, since we were family, we were all trained just like everyone else.”

“You keep saying we. Do you have more siblings?”

“Yeah,” Angel let a small smile grow again. “My sis, ‘er name was Molly. She was my twin and my best friend. We did everythin togetha. We ‘had an olda brotha too, but ‘e was Pop’s favorite so ‘e was taken into the inna folds of the business. Once that ‘happens, you basically give up ya normal life. Get a new name and everythin.”

“Is it appropriate of me to assume you killed in your service?” Alastor sounded quite thrilled at the idea.

“Yeah, don’t rememba how many though,” He shook his head a little, making his bangs bounce. “Afta a while, it all blends togetha. A kill issa kill issa kill, ya know?”

“Interesting! And here I thought you were down here simply for drug abuse and prostatution.”

“I don’t get why prostatution issa sin,” Angel said, his voice dropping down to a whisper. Alastor tilted his head, curious to hear what the spider was going to say next. “I just... no one WANTS ta sell themselves, ya know? No one wakes up one day and says ta themselves ‘I think I’m gonna try whoring, just fa fun!’ The people who hafta do it HAFTA do it. They don’t gotta choice. Why should we be punished for- for wantin to survive?”

Alastor watched how Angel’s eyes seemed to glisten, and how his face scrunched up. It didn’t escape his attention that Angel switched from ‘them’ to ‘us’ either. There was much more to the pornstar than he originally gave him credit for, it seemed.

“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one, my friend,” Alastor felt a pang in his chest. Not empathy - he had never known empathy. Pity maybe. Angel did look quite pitiful after all. “I believe that type of answer is held only by God and Lucifer.”

“Yeah... ain’t much us lowly peasants can do,” Angel chuckled at that. “Otha than suffa.”

“I do quite enjoy the suffering of others,” Alastor remarked easily. He glanced back at Angel and saw him starting to sway where he sat. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll send Niffty up with some painkillers.”

“Ha, that’s probably a good idea,” Angel muttered. While the jambalaya had been mind blowingly good, the spices weren’t exactly sitting well in his stomach. “I’ll, uh, catcha later, Smiles.” Just as he was about to leave, he paused.

“Is something the matter?” Alastor asked, noticing Angel stop.

“Uh, weird question, but I was wonderin if ya had any books I could borrow,” Angel said, looking almost sheepish at the request. Alastor found himself, not for the first time during their conversation, surprised. “I just... I’m already gettin restless and I know two weeks are gonna start to drag and-”

“Not a problem,” Alastor’s smile seemed more genuine. “I’ll see what I have on hand and bring them to you shortly.”

“Thanks a bunch Al,” Angel offered the other demon a grateful look. “I’ll uh, be goin then.”

“Rest well, my dear!” Alastor called after him as he all but stumbled from the kitchen.

It was only after Angel Dust had left that Alastor realized the spider didn’t make a single sexual remark the entire time they were talking. That same feeling from before only doubled in the center of his chest.

“How interesting...” He said to no one in particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad people are liking this so far! I know it's a little self indulgent but I constantly crave a very *specific* type of angst, and most of the time I have to write it myself XD 
> 
> I wanted to ask if the way I'm writing Angel's dialogue is distracting? I can tell it's accent heavy but I'm not sure if it adds to the character or distracts from him, you know? If it is too much I can tone it down and go back to edit the first two chapters so it's fairly even through the fic 
> 
> That being said, I just wanted to say that the total number of chapters is 100% an estimation and is destined to be changed at least a few times! So if you check and suddenly there's more, that's why.


	3. Catalyst to the Pain

“Nugs...” Angel sat in front of his mirror, staring at his reflection. “I think somethin’s wrong.”

Fat Nuggets just shuffled around his ankles, pressing their snout against his shins. He had healed enough that he didn’t need the sling, but his ribs were still a bitch and a half. Charlie said he would probably be fine without the bandaging in another two days or so, and Angel was beginning to wonder if he could make it to then. It was only the fourth day since he had passed out in the studio, and something was very, very wrong with him.

“I should go downstairs...” He muttered, his eyes stinging. He didn’t feel like crying, but rather it was as if his eyes were too dry. It took him a few moments to stand, his balance slightly better than usual - no matter how naturally he walked in heels, his spider feet had hairs on the bottom of them to hold him in place, so now not only was he silent as he walked, he was much more sure of his steps. He wondered why he let his insecurities take control for so long. He was Angel Dust! There wasn’t a single thing about his appearance that was undesirable!

He chuckled to himself. He was starting to sound like Charlie. Sure, he wasn’t as immediately disgusted with himself anymore, but it was still hard to walk out of his room without socks. He wondered if he would be fine with it by the time his ribs healed, or if he would fall back into old habits the second he could.

“Ugh, my head fuckin’ hurts...” He whimpered to himself, one of his hands coming up to gently rub along the back of his scalp, his fingers scraping lightly through his fur. It helped a little bit, but there was a definite throbbing through his skull.

It was like the feeling he got at the end of his days off, but a thousand times worse. That mixed with how he felt right before it rained. As a spider, he had a better sense of when a storm was going to him - unfortunately, in Hell it was a toss up between blood rain or acid rain, so either way he was NOT thrilled. He wondered if he ever made it onto the surface ever again, if he’d hate regular rainstorms just as much. Storms gave him this current under his skin, like his very cells were crawling, but what he was feeling now wasn’t quite like that.

Yes, he felt like his skin wasn’t quite fitting him right, but it wasn’t the same crawling feeling but rather a slimy one, as if there was a layer of oil between his skin and what little meat was on his frame. Overall? Angel was NOT a fan.

“Good morning Angel!” Charlie chirped, as chipper as ever. Angel, who had been preparing himself to return the greeting as he walked down the stairs, ended up flinching violently as her voice reverberated through his skull like a knife stirring his brains.

“Fuck-” two hands came up to dig his palms against his eyes, hoping it would help.

“Angel!” Charlie cried out in concern, rushing to the other demon’s side. Angel, however, threw himself away from her, his vision going white from the pain.

“Charlie, I think it’s his head.” Vaggie whispered, pulling her girlfriend away from the huddled ball that was Angel Dust.

“What’s going on?” The Princess asked, her voice just loud enough for Vaggie alone to hear her.

“I don’t know...”

Alastor chose that moment to appear, and just as he opened his mouth to give his morning greetings, he took in the scene before him. His smile dimmed a little, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“What is going on?” He asked, sensing that using his normally boisterous tone wouldn’t be appropriate. As it was, that volume was enough to make Angel whimper more. For a demon as tall as Angel, the spider seemed to be able to make himself into a very small heap.

Vaggie and Charlie rushed over to the Radio Demon, pulling him aside.

“Somethings not right,” Charlie said with a frown. “He shouldn’t be in this much pain still. His concussion wasn’t nearly this bad-”

“And he won’t take anything for the pain...” Vaggie bit her thumbnail in frustration. Alastor blinked. That was news to him.

“What do you mean he won’t take anything?” he asked, looking between the two shorter women.

“The other day I offered him some... uh... drugs - to help with the pain!” Charlie quickly defended herself, as if Alastor of all people would call her out. “But he said... that he’d been clean since that fight he was helping Cherri Bomb with.”

“He went clean, all on his own?” Now that was an interesting development. Alastor found himself intrigued - Angel was known for his addictions, yet he was willing to cut himself off of one of the very few things in Hell that could make one feel something?

“Apparently,” Charlie tugged on the end of her ponytail, as she did when she was anxious. “I don’t- I don’t know what else to do! I mean, I have low level painkillers but I don’t think that’s going to be enough to help him right now. I feel so helpless...”

“I’ll handle our dear Angel,” Alastor announced, his voice still soft. He even toned the static back - for Angel’s sake. “Please excuse us.”

Charlie stopped the Radio Demon with a tug on his sleeve. Alastor looked back at her, almost surprised that she had the audacity to reach out and touch him so easily, but the look on her face stopped him from snapping at her.

“Take care of him?” She whispered, sounding close to tears.

“Of course, my Lady,” Alastor offered a large grin. “You have my word.”

Neither Charlie nor Vaggie seemed overly comforted by that, but since there was no other objection Alastor made his way over to where Angel was curled into a trembling ball on the dusty carpet.

“Come along, my dear,” Alastor said gently, thinking about how his own mother used to comfort him when he was just a child. Before he... Alastor didn’t let himself remember that much of his childhood for a reason. “Let’s go somewhere quiet, yes?”

“Make it stop...” Angel sobbed weakly. “It h-hurts... make i-it stop...”

Alastor couldn’t stop the frown from forming on his face. He didn’t like the vulnerability in the spider’s voice. Angel was supposed to be loud, and crass. He wasn’t supposed to sound so broken and small. It just didn’t sit right with Alastor.

“I’ll make it stop,” he said, only flinching a little when Angel curled into his chest. “I promise.”

He summoned a shadow to transport them somewhere away from the dining room, but Angel wasn’t able to stay conscious to see where they ended up.

The next time he opened his eyes, Angel saw he was somewhere dark. Not pitch black, but dark enough that his eyes didn’t hurt. It was also cool, which felt nice against his overly warm fur. Did he have a fever? He didn’t think you could get sick in Hell.

“Angel dear? Have you awoken?” Alastor asked from the bedside. Angel realised he was indeed laying in a bed that definitely wasn’t his. These blankets were thinner, and made of a coarser material - wool maybe?

“What ‘appened?” He whispered, his throat scratchy as if he had been crying-

“You collapsed in the dining room, mon cher,” Alastor responded, and Angel realized that there was no static to be heard from the other demon. “You gave us quite the fright, I must say.”

“Ah, sorry ‘bout that,” He let his eyes slip closed again. He wondered if Alastor meant ‘us’ as in the royal we which was a general inclusion of all involved, or if he was also part of the group that had been worried. He tried not to let the latter option make his stomach twist. “I don’t know what happened...”

“We have reasoning to believe it was your head, Angel.”

“Oh, yeah,” Angel took a slow breath in before letting it out evenly. “Woke up with a bad headache but I figured some coffee or somethin’ would help. Then... then Charlie was too loud and it felt like a bomb had gone off in my skull.”

“That certainly isn’t good.”

“Yeah, no shit,” He chuckled softly. “Seems to have fucked off though, thankfully.”

“Is there anything else wrong with your health?”

“... feel sick to my stomach,” Angel’s bottom arms wrapped around his gut as if to stop the nausea. “And... ‘m cold.”

“Cold?” Alastor sounded... worried? No, why would Alastor be worried about him? Alastor didn’t worry about anyone or anything other than his next source of entertainment. He wouldn’t care for a pathetic slut. Not for Angel.

“Fuck...” Now that he acknowledged it, all he could focus on was how fucking cold he was. His fur was standing on end, and his chest was wracked with tremors. Wrapping his other arms around himself as well, he found it did very little to make himself feel any better.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep, my dear,” Alastor pulled the blanket back up over Angel’s body. “You seem tired.”

“Yeah... aight.” Angel muttered. As he fell asleep, he realized the lights had been too low to see Alastor’s face at all. He wondered if the other demon simply didn’t want to look at Angel. He wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the case, but he couldn’t say the thought didn’t hurt either.

* * *

  
The next day, Angel tried for breakfast again. After spending the afternoon in what he assumed was Alastor’s room - mainly because it didn’t have the stagnant smell of mildew and dust that all the unused rooms in the hotel seemed to have - he had stumbled back to his own room only to fall directly back to sleep again. He didn’t know what was going on, but after sleeping for an entire day, he did actually feel a little better.

“Ah, good morning Angel.” Charlie smiled, her greeting much calmer than the one the morning before. “How are you feeling?”

“Betta,” Angel offered her a gentle smile. The headache from the day before had faded to a dull pressure, as if his brain had been bruised and was just starting to heal. “Uh, sorry. For making a scene ‘n shit. I’m sure it wasn’t what anyone wanted to deal with so early in the mornin.”

“No! Please don’t worry about that,” Charlie’s eyes widened. “We’re just glad you’re alright!”

_She’s lying._

Angel shook his head. He hated when his thoughts got out of hand. They seemed to hiss into his mind, poisoning his brain with nasty, evil things. Even when he was alive, his thoughts were against him, which was one reason why he turned to drugs once getting to Hell - to finally turn off the voices in his head, at least for a little while.

_Why would they care about you? You’re pathetic. Nothing more than a whore. You’re wasting their time. There’s no redemption for you. You should go back to Valentino. At least he treats you the way you deserve-_

“Angel?” Charlie’s soft voice broke through his mental battle. Angel blinked a few times, wondering if he had kept his eyes open the entire time he was listening to the voice.

“Ah, I’m fine,” He grinned, but even he could tell it was weak. “Just a lil fucked up from sleepin so long.”

“Are you sure? You can-”

“I said I’m fine, okay?!” He snapped, only to freeze. The room was dead silent. “I- uh, I’m... g-gonna sit down.”

Charlie just nodded, watching him go to the table with wide, shocked eyes. Vaggie and Niffty just stared as well, having just walked into the dining room in time to hear Angel blow-up at the Princess.

“Charlie, what-?” Vaggie started to ask when her girlfriend simply shook her head. Charlie’s face was serious, devoid of any kind of smile. Vaggie knew she only looked like that when she was putting the puzzle pieces to something together.

Angel could feel his hands begin to shake in his lap. He was just starting to- to what? Get them to like him? Just starting to fit in at the hotel? No, neither of those were right, but he felt guilt and shame wash over him regardless. Charlie was just trying to HELP! Why was he such a fuck up!?

_Because you don’t deserve nice things. You never have. You should let yourself be caught in the next extermination. A freak like you deserves to vanish for eternity-_

“Here Angel!” Niffty put a cup next to Angel’s elbow. Angel glanced over to see the same coffee from the other day, once more prepared especially for him. His mouth softened into a small smile as he nodded towards the small demon.

“Thanks honey,” He said, his voice wavering slightly. What was WRONG with him? “You know just what a fella needs.”

“Mm! If you need anything let me know!” And before he could respond, she was gone, flitting around the dining room faster than his eyes could keep up.

Angel let himself sip the coffee, the sweet and the caffeine flooding his system like a cool cloth on a fevered forehead. He inhaled slowly, almost able to breathe normally without pain shooting down the entire length of his torso.

“Oh! Good morning Husk!” Charlie called, causing Angel to look up. The cat demon shuffled into the dining room earlier than normal, and for once he didn’t look half re-dead either. He looked... fairly awake, actually. Dressed for the day with his feathers combed into place and everything.

“Whatchu lookin at?” He growled when he caught Angel staring. Angel jumped a little, not having realized he was staring in the first place. His first instinct was to apologize. His second instinct was to make some lewd comment about ‘never seeing enough’ but for some reason instead of doing either of those things, Angel scowled.

“Whats it to ya?” He snapped back, one side of his mouth curling up higher than the other.

“What?” Husk’s face dropped in surprise before crunching up again. “Why I outta-”

“Outta what, kitten?” Angel sneered, a sudden lump in his stomach making him want to scream. He put the cup on the table and stood, taking three long strides and stopping just inches from Husk’s face. “Teach me a lesson? I’d like ta see you try, shorty.”

“Angel! What’s gotten into you?” Charlie stood in between the two, who continued to scowl at each other from around the Princess.

“I dunno, ask Husker,” Angel spat. “I didn’t do shit!”

“Now why don’t we all take a deep breath and-” Charlie tried to reason, but was almost instantly interrupted.

“You know what? I think I just lost my appetite.” Angel’s voice dropped. He spun, ignoring the sharp pain in his side, and walked from the dining room without looking back. He didn’t want to go back to his room just yet, because he was already feeling claustrophobic, so he took a detour towards the balcony.

He hoped the stash he left was still hidden. Digging through one of the many potted plants that Charlie somehow managed to keep alive in the abysmal conditions of Hell, his shoulders slumped in relief when he felt the small bag he had left.

He pulled out the sandwich bag that had a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. Most of his hard drugs that he stashed had been used up already, but he didn’t need an upper. He needed something to calm this sudden vile feeling snaking through his veins.

Angel Dust pulled out a cigarette with a practiced movement and lit it as he had done thousands of times before. The first drag was euphoria, the nicotine instantly hit his system seeing how he hadn’t had anything to eat since the day before. He finished the first cigarette with four more long drags. He sighed, snuffing it out on the railing before tossing the butt down onto whoever was unfortunate to be passing by.

He didn’t care how long it took. He was going to smoke until he didn’t feel like his skin was crawling with ants anymore.

Unfortunately, the carton was empty before he felt any relief from the sensations that were putting him on edge. Angel growled, crushing the cardboard pack and throwing it as far as he could over the edge of the balcony with a scream. The scream bounced from building to building, fading until there was nothing left.

Angel took a deep breath, purposely making it deep enough to make it feel like a gunshot through his side. The pain made tears gather in his eyes, but it was fine. If he could feel pain, then he was real. He was alive - or as alive as he could be. He wished he had one more cigarette so he could see what would happen if he were to press the red end against his thin wrists and-

Angel closed his eyes and rubbed them roughly. No. He needed to stop thinking like that. Hurting himself wasn’t going to solve anything - it was just going to make his afterlife more complicated and Charlie would worry and-

His stomach rolled. Charlie must be so mad at him. They all must be. He was a burden on them, just like Val said.

" _One of these days you’re gonna realize what a waste of time that stupid hotel is and come crawling back to me Angelcakes,” He had cooed, cupping Angel’s cheek almost gently before dragging the spider up by his throat. “No one could love you the way I do. They’ll grow tired of you and kick you out, but I’ll always be here for you. I’d never abandon my sweet Angel.”_

_Angel’s vision had started to go black around the edges when Val finally let him go. He slumped to the floor, his face just inches from the pimp’s expensive shoes._

_“Do you understand, Angie?” Val crouched, carding his fingers through Angel’s bangs. They were greasy from how many scenes Val had him film that day. “That Daddy loves you?”_

_“Yes Daddy,” He murmured, leaning into the comforting touch. “Your Angel loves you too.”_

_“Atta boy.” Valentino’s grin only widened._

He shook the memory away, not even sure exactly what happened. He had been so pumped full of drugs that he barely knew his own name. Val could ask him to do anything and he would have done it without a second thought. He was complacent and willing - exactly how Val liked it.  
Pushing open the door to his bedroom, Angel was greeted by loud squealing as Fat Nuggets came excitedly charging at him. The sounds sent a railroad spike through his head, and Angel felt the knot of... whatever was making his chest feel so heavy... roll, nearly causing him to double over. Fat Nuggets only got louder the longer Angel wasn’t petting them.

“Shaddup!!” Angel screamed, kicking the pig away from him.

The instant he did, Angel felt his world stop. It hadn’t been a hard kick, seeing how his bare feet were one of the fluffiest parts of his body, right after his head and his chest. Fat Nuggets barely even blinked at the kick, already back on their feet and hopping up and down around Angel’s legs.

Angel’s knees gave out, silent tears soaking into his fur before leaving dark droplets on the carpeting of his room. Fat Nuggets crawled onto his lap and licked the tears on his chin, oinking slightly as they did so. His arms came around his pet without thinking about it, and the weight against his chest was what broke him.

“S-somethin’s wrong,” He sobbed, two arms around Fat Nuggets and two covering his face. “Somethin ain’t right with me Nugs... I’m- I’m scared... I need- I need to find Charlie.”

Angel shot to his feet, the bandaging around his chest the only thing from collapsing again. He placed Fat Nuggets onto his bed as gently as possible and all but bolted from his room. He had no idea where Charlie would be, and the realization left his chest feeling hollow and helpless. If he couldn’t find Charlie, what was he going to do?

“Is something the matter, my dear?” Alastor saw Angel sprinting through the hotel lobby, looking a mess.

“I n-need Cha-Charlie!” He stuttered frantically, his chest heaving.

“She’s in the library,” Alastor’s smile instantly dropped. Angel sounded so... afraid. “I can take you through a shortcut-”

“Yes! Please!” Angel grabbed Alastor’s sleeve like a child terrified of a thunderstorm. With a frown, Alastor made a portal and stepped them through it, instantly stepping back out in the center of the library.

“AH- Alastor! You scared me!” Charlie screamed before scrambling to collect herself. Her smile turned horrified at the state of her first patron. “Angel? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know-” He doubled over, heaving but not having anything to throw up. His skin was clammy - he could FEEL himself sweating - but he was shaking violently as if he had been stuck out in the snow. His head was pounding just as it had the day he passed out in the dining room, and his vision was starting to fade in and out. “I don’t- what’s going on!?”

“Withdrawls,” Charlie said seriously, kneeling next to Angel. “Bad ones.”

“N-no! No! I promise! I s-swear, I d-didn’t do any-” He cried harder, desperate for the woman to understand that he hadn’t lied. Make her understand that he was trying his best.

“I believe you Angel,” She said softly, running her fingers through his hair comfortingly. He leaned into the touch, desperately craving some sort of affection. He was scared, and in pain, and FUCK - he just wanted someone to HOLD HIM. “It’s Valentino. I had my suspicions, but this confirms it.”

“V-Val?” Angel forced his eyes open. Was Val here? Was Val going to help him? He wanted his Daddy. He would make Angel feel better.

“He must have been drugging Angel while he was working,” Charlie’s voice was getting fainter and fainter. “Wai- Angel don’t... eyes open okay?... water...”

Angel wished Val was there. Val would make the pain stop. Val took care of him. Angel just wanted to be taken care of...

* * *

  
“Hey there Angie, good to see you up.” A familiar voice said the moment Angel began to stir.

“Cherri...?” He groaned, cracking an eye open.

“You look like shit man,” She said with a toothy grin, only for it to fade into a concerned frown as she took Angel’s hand. “I had a bad feeling so I came to check up on ya and the Princess said you would probably feel better if you woke up to a friendly face.”

“Ya face screams gentle and serene,” Angel quipped weakly, causing Cherri to give him a small laugh in return. “I can guarantee I feel worse than I look.”

“So it was Val...” Cherri growled, her pretty features crumbling in anger. “I knew something was up! How you’d always start to feel like shit on your days off... you must have been goin through the early stages of withdrawal for whatever the fuck he had you on.”

“I don’t get it,” He curled onto his side, holding Cherri’s hand with two of his own. “It’s been days since the last time I saw Val. Why is it only hittin now?”

“Maybe you just didn’t notice it at first cuz of how fucked up you were,” She suggested, not sure if she bought her own explanation. “Like, the mild symptoms were looked over cuz of how much pain you were in, and now that you’re healing your body is freaking out.”

“This sucks...” he wished he could go back to sleep.

"He probably gave you the two weeks because he knew this would happen," Her face darkened even more. "He wanted you to feel this way so you'd come crawling back to him-"

"It's fine babe. Don't getcha panties in a twist over it, okay?" Angel tried to lighten the mood, as he always did when things got too serious, but instead of laughing the tension off like usual, Cherri somehow managed to look even sadder. She sighed as she rubbed her thumb along Angel's knuckles. 

“Will you be alright if I go grab the Princess?” Cherri asked softly. Angel remembered the last time she sounded so gentle - it was when he was first going through his withdrawals, when it was a chosen detox.

“Yeah, I ain’t goin anywhere...”

“Alright Angie, I’ll be right back.” Cherri leaned down and pressed a kiss to Angel’s forehead before leaving him alone in his bedroom. It was dead silent, not even the light snuffling of Fat Nuggets to break the suffocating air. He wondered where his pet was, but figured wherever they were was better than with him. He hurt them after all.

He was just as bad as his father.

Tears squeezed their way past closed lids, soaking into his pillow. The pain in his side was almost nonexistent, but there was a dry ache in his head - the kind you got in the aftermath of a skull splitting headache.

“Ah, Miss Cherri was correct,” Alastor said from the doorway. The static that surrounded him calmed Angel’s mind, giving him white noise to chase away his thoughts. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

“Like shit,” He answered honestly. “I can’t believe Val would...”

He trailed off, because part of him could believe it. Part of him DID believe that Val would drug him to keep him loose and compliant towards the pimp’s whims, but at the same time he had trouble processing it because Val loved him.

“You understand that none of this is your fault, correct?”

“I dunno ‘bout that.” Angel sat up slightly, just enough to look at his guest properly. Alastor looked the same as always, with his impeccable suit and soft looking ears sticking straight up and his unnatural grin-

He wasn’t grinning. In fact, his whole face was downturned, his eyes looking extra large now that there was no toothy smile to take up room.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Alastor said after a moment of silence. “I had to admit, even I do not know what it was that made you feel this way. While I know much, drugs aren’t at the forefront of my interests.”

“It’s aight. Whateva it is is finally wearing off,” He sighed. For the first time in days, he was able to appreciate the fact that he was fully healed from his beating. “Besides, it don’t really matta.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I hafta go back at the end of next week,” Angel could feel the helpless smile growing on his face. “He’ll just dope me up again...” He chuckled darkly, covering his eyes with his hands as he bit the inside of his cheek. “Ha... I really am a lost cause. No point in rehabilitatin someone like me. It ain’t worth the trouble.”

“I do not think you should give up on yourself so easily, my dear,” Alastor sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress slumped from the extra weight and Angel felt himself roll with gravity, his lanky body wrapping slightly around the Radio Demon’s hips. He tried to pull away, but his limbs were just too heavy. Surprisingly, Alastor didn’t make any move to push Angel aside either. “I must say, I was quite impressed to learn you detoxed yourself. That takes much strength.”

“Wasn’t enough,” Angel let his eyes close. “I didn’t... think ya cared all that much.”

“Of course I care! I-”

“Put a lot inta the hotel, and ya care about our well being so ya can watch us fail,” He sighed, having heard the same excuse so many times before. “You’ve told me a few times already.”

“That was not what I was going to say,” Alastor didn’t sound angry about being interrupted. Instead, he sounded almost... sad. “I was about to say that I was concerned for your well being. I must admit, I’ve grown quite... fond of the demons in this hotel, and you in particular have caught my attention.”

“Bet I’m a real gas, huh,” His tone was dry. “Best show around.”

“That isn’t it either.”

“That’s all I’m good for... being used for entertainment...” Angel muttered, his words getting lost in his pillow. The admittance hurt more than he thought it would because he had been aware of this fact before. He had been aware, but this was the first time he had spoken it out loud.

“Will you listen to me?” Alastor’s static spiked, causing Angel to shrink into himself and bury his face into his pillow, which all four arms were gripping tightly to his chest. The static immediately dropped, leaving them in silence once again. Alastor cleared his throat before speaking again. “As I was saying, I find you intriguing. After our conversation in the kitchen, I realized we have more in common than I ever imagined, and it was... almost reliving in a way. It has been far too long since I’ve been able to... connect to another. Empathy was never my strongest suit, but I find myself relating with you. Being able to share music with someone who understands the era... And when you said my voice was comforting... No one has ever said that to me.”

“Ya know, for a murderous demon overlord, you’re pretty aight.” Angel smiled at Alastor, half his face hidden in his pillow.

“That, and I find you are very pleasant company when you aren’t making those lewd comments you’re so fond of.” He shuddered a little but, but Angel was pretty sure it was more for show than reality.

“Ah, my bad,” He chuckled. “Force a habit. Easier to deflect discomfort when ya make them flustered, ya know?”

“I suppose I do the same with fear, though I must say I do not experience discomfort anymore.” Alastor sniffed haughtily, and the action made Angel want to reach out and tap the end of the deer demon’s nose.

“Sure ya don’t,” Angel giggled, sitting up and holding the pillow in his lap. “Don't worry, I won’t tell anyone about you bein soft. It can be our lil secret.”

If Angel hadn’t seen what happened next with his own two eyes, he never would have believed it. As he teased Alastor, the Radio Demon’s face seemed to flush, his pupils growing wide and his mouth opened slightly before he quickly narrowed his eyes and puffed his cheeks a little.

Angel couldn’t stop staring.

Alastor, the Radio Demon who sewed fear into the hearts of anyone who so much as hears his name, was-

Pouting.

“Fuck Al, you’re adorable.” He muttered before he thought about the words coming out of his mouth. As soon as they were, however, they both froze. They stared at each other, eyes wide in shock.

“...” A faint static whine filled the room as Angel flushed hard.

“Uh-”

Before he had the chance to blame it on his withdrawal flattened brain, the door to his room flew open again.

“Angel! I’m so glad you’re okay-” Charlie froze, her smile wide but her eyes wider as he took in the scene before her. Angel, sitting up. Alastor, sitting on the edge of the bed, just inches from the spider. Angel, with a flush so bright it colored his cheeks. Alastor with a blush that made his ghastly pallor seem almost alive. “Ah, I see... well... I guess I’ll just, uh, leave you two be and come back later-”

“No need! I was just about to leave myself,” Alastor said, just a little too quickly to be casual. “If you need anything, just give me a call!”

Charlie and Angel watched Alastor rush from the room, and Angel couldn’t help but internally coo at how the deer demon’s ears seemed to be pressed tightly against his head.

He waited a beat before bursting into laughter, letting himself fall back onto the bed, his arms falling to the side as he looked up at his ceiling.

“Oh my god, Charles ya really gotta work on ya timin.” He grinned at Charlie, who chuckled along with him.

“I didn’t know, I swear,” She rubbed the back of her head. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright!”

“Thanks for chekin in on me Toots,” Angel’s smile softened. “Sorry for causin so much trouble for ya.”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” She sat where Alastor had just been and began stroking Angel’s hair. He didn’t know why she kept doing that, but he wasn’t going to complain. He adored it when people played with his hair, but as a slut and a whore, cuddling and playing with his fur were the last things his clients wanted to do with him. “It’s no trouble, and you’re not a burden. We’re your friends Angel. We want to see you healthy, and we don’t want anything in return other than you being happy! We aren’t going to abandon you.”

“Oh...” Angel’s throat tightened. But Val told him that they would leave him behind as soon as he proved to be more trouble than he was worth and- “Ya... ya really mean that, doncha?”

“I really do,” her eyes turned up with her smile. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well.”

“Thanks Toots.” Angel sniffled, his eyes stinging painfully.

“You wanna come get some lunch? Al made some cake for afterwards.” She helped him sit up so they were shoulder to shoulder - or rather, shoulder to chest seeing how Charlie was that much shorter than Angel.

“Al doesn’t like sweets...” Angel mused, more to himself than anyone else.

“Yeah, but you do.” She stood and held a hand out to him. Angel looked at it for a moment before letting his long fingers wrap around her palm. She helped him to his feet, wrapping his covers around his shoulders.

He didn’t let go of her hand as they went down to the kitchen, where he could hear Cherri laughing loudly and Husk shouting something in retaliation, and it seemed Charlie didn’t mind it, because she even gave his hand a light squeeze, followed by a small smile. Angel found it didn’t hurt his chest to return the smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter? So soon? It's called not being able to think of anything other than your fic! 
> 
> This wasn't supposed to be a ship fic, but I've been reading a lot of radiodust fics and honestly? I love the idea of Angel just wanting someone to give him affection and not really needing anything sexual from Alastor. Am I projecting my lifelong want of a partner to cuddle with? Mayhaps XD
> 
> Also, in case I forget to address it in the fic itself, the drug that Val put Angel on isn't anything real. I had the idea for what sort of withdrawal I wanted him to go through and wasn't sure if there was anything that would fit it all so as of now it's whatever is in Valentino's red smoke.


	4. A Well Deserved Break

Angel shuffled into the kitchen, eyes sore from sleep. He had been passed out for several hours - more than he normally would - and he felt.... Okay, which was surprising considering the day he had before. His head felt a little foggy, but thanks to the painkillers Charlie had left for him, he wasn’t in mind numbing agony.

He was also aware that as the day progressed, he would feel worse and worse until he was reduced to a puddle of tears, but since it was still early he felt decent.

“Oh! Good morning Angel!” Niffty chirped, her eye sparkling brightly. Angel had wondered more than once how the small demon had so much energy. He had never actually seen her sleep, and even when he came home late she usually could be found somewhere in the hotel, dusting or polishing or rearranging the furniture.

“Mornin’ Nifts,” he yawned, sitting at the kitchen island. He let his chin rest on the marble as he watched his friend flit around the room. “Whatcha makin?”

“I dunno! I found some pancake mix in the cabinet and I’m just having fun!” She grinned, her sharp teeth shining in the fluorescent lights. Looking around, Angel could see what she meant. There were plates of normal pancakes, but there were also several plates of unknown foods with a coating of pancake, and even what looked like a burger with a pancake bun.

“Mind if I have some of it?” He asked, eyeing the pancakes with the strawberries and whipped cream that looked like something from a magazine or commercial.

“Help yourself!” Niffty bounced around the kitchen, starting to clean up the mess that she had left behind. Angel wondered what she did in her free time, or if this was how she was all the time. They had been living together in the hotel for a while now, and from what he’s seen she was pretty consistent.

He almost envied her. Obviously she wasn’t completely carefree, being a demon in hell under a contract with Alastor after all, but there was something about her that seemed... innocent, almost. Angel wondered what she had been like in her life, and what she did to end up in literal Hell, because she was so genuine. He wondered if the design on her blouse hinted at how her life ended, but he never asked. It wasn’t his place to pry.

Maybe he really did envy her. Angel allowed himself to imagine himself without any worries - imagined himself with a boss like Alastor, who’s been fair and kind to his employees as far as anyone knew. Imagined himself using his once endless energy to do the things he genuinely enjoyed rather than..

“Is it good?” Niffty broke Angel from his thoughts and he was grateful for it. He was starting to go down a road that he really wasn’t in the mood to explore so early in the morning, or ever, really.

“Mm, delicious,” He smiled as he took another bite. It wasn’t a lie either. The pancakes were sweet and fluffy, and the strawberries were lightly sugared. “Hey Nifts? How long have you been workin on all this?”

“Hm? Oh, I dunno! A few hours maybe?” She looked around, as if just noticing how much she had actually made. “I just like keeping busy. It’s easier that way.”

“Waddya mean?” Angel blinked, never having heard Niffty sound so serious.

“Oh you know,” She perked up. “It’s easier to be busy than to have to sit with your own thoughts. That’s why I like cleaning! And cooking! And writing! I don’t have to worry about anything but what I’m doing.”

“I get that,” He stared at his plate, filled from the few bites he had taken. “Your own mind is ya worst enemy, and you’ll take anythin to make it shut up for a minute.”

“Thanks to Mister Alastor I’ve always had something to do!” Her grin softened a little, and Angel could understand. There was something about Alastor that made his stomach flutter for whatever reason. “He told me that it’s unsightly for a lady to involve herself in substances to forget, so he gives me chores to do to keep my busy!”

“I’m glad he found ya,” Angel’s chest burned. He was glad, yes, but he was also... jealous. Why did she get Alastor when he got Val- “There are some nasty fuckas around here who’d take advantage a someone so cute.”

“Aw, you think I’m cute?” Niffty’s grin widened as she rushed to Angel’s side. The spider chuckled and gently ruffled her hair, making sure not to mess it up.

“Mm, adorable.”

“Hey Angel?” Her voice dropped again, her eye trained on her hands, which were fidgeting on top of her poodle skirt.

“Yeah honey?”

“I-” She frowned for a moment before looking up at Angel. “You look better.”

“Huh?” He blinked, not entirely sure what she meant.

“Ever since Mister Alastor brought me here, you’ve looked... sad,” she chewed on her bottom lip for a moment as she chose her next words. “But... but you look better and your colors are brighter. You’re... fluffier.”

“You think so?” Angel felt a hopeful smile bloom on his face. Maybe he wasn’t a lost cause after all...

“Yeah! We all do!” Niffty’s grin was back. “We’re all so proud of you Angel!”

“Honey...” Angel’s eyes stung. He scooped the smaller demon up into his arms, hugging her tightly as he laughed, tears falling onto the top of her head. She giggled and nuzzled into Angel’s fluff.

“You’re so soft!” She exclaimed excitedly, as if she had discovered the secret to redemption. He just laughed again and let her run her small hands through his fur, her enthusiasm making his chest warm. It had been... a long time since anyone had liked his appearance simply because he was cute, or soft, or pretty. It was a new feeling to have his friend gushing over how pretty his spots were, and how soft his fur was. It felt nice... it made him feel like maybe he was more than just a whore.

* * *

“Hey Husk,” Angel grinned at his friend as he slid into his favorite seat at the bar. It had been a few days since he had really had the chance to chat with the cat, seeing how for a while he was curled in a ball either in his own bed, or in Alastor’s. Now that the withdrawals were starting to subside, he was able to be up and active again, which was a blessing in itself because if he had to stay in bed for one more day Angel was going to commit arson. “How’s it cookin, good lookin?”

“Glad to see you’re feelin better,” Husk only rolled his eyes at Angel’s attempt at flirting, but he was silently happy that the spider was feeling well enough to actually flirt again. The days of Angel talking quietly, head down, no hint of the confident demon he was made everyone uneasy. “Thought you were gonna bite the dust.”

“Nah, I’d miss out on too much fun if I did that,” Angel laughed and stretched a little, his cropped hoodie riding up a little as he did so. He wished more clothing allowed for all four of his arms, but only select pieces did, which was a big reason why he always wore cropped tops - they gave him the freedom to move properly, though if he really wanted to he could wrap his bottom arms around his waist so he could wear a normal sweatshirt. “Anythin new?”

“Same old shit as always,” Husk sighed, cleaning and non existent smudge off a glass, as if he was going to have a rush at his bar soon. Sure, there were a handful of demons who had come to see what the hotel was all about, but even they tended to stay away from the bar, seeing how it was where Angel, Alastor and Charlie tended to hang out. It was almost like they were intimidating or something. “Nothin changes around this dump.”

“You lookin for somethin entertainin?” Angel chuckled, his eyebrows raising. Husk’s eyes shot open wide when he realized what Angel had said.

“Not like that you-”

“You’re startin ta sound like Smiles,” Angel cut him off, not exactly in the mood for a comment about his profession. He knew there would be no real spite behind it, but it still stung when someone made an offhand pass about it. “Maybe we should get a band in ‘ere or somethin ta keep our favorite kitty cat entertained.”

“Musicians shouldn’t be too hard to find in Hell...” Husk furrowed his eyebrows, thinking about the logistics of hiring a band. The look on his face made Angel think of the time he had fed a stray cat, and it had looked at the food in his hand with hesitation, a look of thought on the small creature’s face that was enough to make his heart melt.

Angel found he couldn’t resist reaching out and petting right behind Husk’s ear. When he was alive, Anthony had been quite fond of cats - not just because he had an aversion to dogs who bit and growled - but also because cats were misunderstood. Most people called them cold or unlovable, but the ones he came across, even the most starved ones, were so gentle and happy to be shown affection. They reminded him a lot of himself, which was probably why he felt such a connection to them.

By the time he realized what he was doing, it was too late to pull his hand back. The two demons just stared at each other, Angel’s arm still extended and his fingers just a breath away from Husk’s fur.

“Uh-” Angel snatched his arm back, holding it close to his chest as if he had been burned. Husk still didn’t blink. “Fuck- I’m sorry Husk! I know how ya are ‘bout touchin I just- You, uh, made me think a somethin’ from when I was alive and I got sentimental-”

“It’s fine,” Husk interrupted, his fur slightly puffed out. He crossed his arms, his wings relaxing slightly behind him. “As long as no one’s around, got it?”

“Wait, really?” Angel tried not to sound too hopeful and failing miserably. Husk looked at him for a moment, as if sizing him up, before huffing.

“If you tell any-fuckin-one that I like bein pet, I’ll skin ya. Understood?”

“My lips are sealed!” Angel grinned. He made to reach his hand out again but hesitated, still feeling like he was doing something wrong.

“Get on with it already...” Husk growled, looking away. His fur seemed to puff up more, as if he were... embarrassed.

Angel’s eyes turned up as he smiled, reaching across the bar to scratch behind Husk’s ears again. Husk let his eyes close as he rested his chin on the bar top, sighing in content as Angel ran his fingers through his fur gently.

A soft rumbling filled the parlor, making Angel pause. He looked down and saw that Husk had fallen asleep, his tail flicking lazily around his ankles. Upon closer inspection, the rumbling was coming from the sleeping demon - the realization made Angel’s face light up. He didn’t know Husk could purr!

He used his extra arms to gather Husk up and almost threw him - he hadn’t expected his friend to weigh so little, but he supposed it made sense seeing his body shape. Most of the weight was in his wings, while his limbs themselves were fairly gangly under all that fur. Angel carried Husk over to one of the couches facing a fireplace and sat down, letting the cat demon’s head rest in his lap.

Angel knew if he had fallen asleep at the bar, he wouldn’t want to stay there. His neck would be so sore by the time he woke up. Husk stirred a little, but Angel began to pet him again and he fell back into a deep sleep.

He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep himself until he felt something shifting in his lap. Cracking a weary eye open, Angel saw Husk was awake and watching the green fire crackling in the hearth, his head still on the spider’s thighs.

“Why didn’cha wake me up?” Angel asked, voice a little slurred as he woke up more.

“You seem like ya needed the rest.” The cat responded, not looking away from the fire.

“Sorry I moved ya without askin first. Figured you wouldn’t wanna stiff neck when you woke up.” Angel mindlessly carded his fingers through the tufts of fur along Husk’s cheek.

“Sometimes I wonder...” Husk trailed off. Angel didn’t speak, allowing for his friend to pick up his sentence when he was ready. “I really do wonder why you’re down here sometimes. What sorta demon cares if another sinner is mildly uncomfortable?”

“Ha, trust me,” Angel chuckled. “I’ve done my fair share of sins to earn my place down ‘ere. I ain’t been clean since I was twelve.”

“Twelve?” Husk turned to look at Angel, but didn’t make the spider stop his hand. “What the fuck did you do at twelve that was bad enough to send you to this shithole?”

“Oh, ya know how it goes...” Angel chuckled, discomfort rising in the back of his throat that he tried to push down. He had spoken to Alastor about his life as a human, but for some reason seeing the surprise and concern and something else that he couldn’t quite name reflecting in Husk’s eyes was so different com[ared to the manic curiosity in the Radio Demon’s back in the kitchen.

“You know you can...” Husk trailed off before sighing and sitting up fully. His shoulders hunched, and Angel watched the way his wings seemed to tremble - something they did when Husk was deep in thought. After a moment, the cat demon sighed again. “I was in the Vietnam war, when I was alive.”

“Huh?” Angel wasn’t sure what prompted Husk to talk about his time on Earth. He was definitely one of the more private members of the Hotel’s staff, and Angel didn’t know much about his friend past the fact that he was the only one who managed to live to a decent age, and that his alcoholism followed him to Hell.

“I was drafted. Didn’t wanna go but I had to,” Husk stared at the fire, face impassive, as if keeping the emotions out of his expression would keep them out of his voice. “I was a soldier - given the most basic training and shipped overseas to fight a battle I didn’t even believe in. I killed people left and right and didn’t even get the chance to process any of it. We burned down villages and sh-shot kids...” Husk stuttered a little, his tail flicking angrily by his side. Angel’s throat stung - he knew what being forced to kill was like, but at least he was lucky enough that his Father had some morals left. They never touched children, even if their parents were the enemy.

Angel knew what Husk was doing. He was telling the spider his past so that Angel might feel more comfortable talking about his own - it was something Charlie had been trying with all of them in an attempt to get them to open up and work through their problems.

“After a few months of that shit I- I just couldn’t do it anymore,” His voice somehow became even more monotone. “I just... snapped. Killed everyone in my sqad and called it an ambush. Got sent home on honorable discharge for the trauma of seein all my buddies slaughtered... I got away from the war but I couldn’t forget it, so I started drinkin. At first it was just to keep the nightmares away, but I got more and more dependent. Had one daughter, who moved out as soon as she could. Her ma didn’t marry me, and bounced as soon as she got a better deal, leaving the kid with her shitty excuse for a father. After fifty years of this, I couldn’t take it anymore and blew my brains out... I know if my girl could see me know, she wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. I bet she wished she had never known me in the first place.”

“Don’t know if it means much, but I’m glad we met,” Angel said softly. He felt Husk tense under his fingers, but when the cat didn’t move away he continued. “Even though we both did shit, we got the chance at a- a family down here. Funny, ain’t it? Only took dyin to find people who care ‘bout us.”

“What happened when you were twelve?” Husk asked. Angel, having seen this question coming, didn’t flinch but rather took a deep breath.

“Was the first mission my Pa took me on,” He said, recalling the events that he had spent years trying to forget. “He was a big shot in the mafia, and expected his family to do the same. He took me to rough up some asshole who owed us some money. Told my Ma that we was just gonna teach ‘im a lesson and be back by dinna. Instead, he ‘ad me shoot the guy point blank.”

“Fuck...” Husk’s eyes widened, the green fire reflecting brightly in them.

“Mm, screwed me ova fa sure,” He suppressed a shudder. “Couldn’t sleep fa a whole week, and when I managed to get some shut eye, I got nightmares of the guy. Didn’t have too long to freak out though. Pa gave me more shit to do when I turned fifteen, and I didn’t really get a break afta that. Thankfully I was mostly just to cause pain - when a kid is th’ one torturing ya, it makes more of an impression, you know? Still ‘ad ta off a few of them, but most a th’ killin was saved for my olda brotha.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

“What?” Angel blinked, genuinely caught off guard. Husk shifted, his feathers rustling for a moment before he finally looked at Angel - the first time he looked at the spider directly since he had woken from his short nap.

“Those deaths,” He clarified. “You didn’t wanna kill them. It ain’t your fault that your dad was a shitty person.”

“Ha, I ‘ppreciate it Huskey, but ya don’t gotta defend me or anythin,” Angel’s throat burned again. He’d almost rather just outright cry - the stinging that warned him of tears seemed to build and build until he couldn’t breathe. “I accept what I did.”

“Still doesn’t make it your fault.”

“Hey, wanna try one of my favorite cocktails from when I was still kickin?” Angel asked, quickly changing the subject. Husk frowned a little, fully well knowing what Angel was doing, before nodding.

They made their way back to the bar, Husk letting Angel slip behind as he sat on one of the stools. It felt weird, having their positions be switched, but it was nice. Angel worked as if he had been doing it his entire death, his extra arms making it easier to mix and pour and garnish. Neither spoke about what they had just shared, but there was a warmth that seemed to blanket the room that had nothing to do with the fireplace.

* * *

A few days passed, and Angel was feeling stronger. The last dredges of his withdrawals were fading, and he was starting to get the bounce back in his step. He smiled more, and was quick to laugh. He spent more time out of his room, socializing with the staff and patrons.

So when he woke up wracked with tears and a pain deep in his chest, he didn’t understand it. He was supposed to be getting BETTER!

“Angel? You didn’t come down for breakfast so I wanted to make sure you were alright,” A familiar voice followed a gentle knock at his door. Angel buried his face deeper into his pillow, hoping that if he didn’t answer that Charlie would think he was still asleep and leave him alone. As his luck had it, she did not think he was still asleep and knocked again. “Angel? Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” He called out. He wondered if Charlie could even hear him. “Come in.”

Apparently she could, for moments later he heard his door creak open then closed again. Soft footsteps padded over to his bed, and he felt a hand on the back of his head gently combing through the tangles in his fur.

“Are you alright?” She asked, pure concern coloring her voice.

“I dunno,” He answered honestly, not having the energy to lie. “I feel like I wanna scream, but I dunno why. I thought I was doin betta, but maybe I really am just a failure-”

“No,” She cut him off quickly. “None of that. No talk of failure. Angel, you just went through a seriously intense detox. Your body was weak to begin with when you came back beaten half to second death, then your withdrawal on top of that... It’s natural to feel drained after something like that.”

“But... but I’ve been doin betta,” Traitorous tears stung his eyes, only to be quickly soaked into his pillowcase. “Why does everythin hafta go ta shit as soon as I start gettin betta?”

“I have an idea,” Charlie said, pulling her hand from Angel’s head. “You go back to sleep for a little bit and I’ll come get you when I’m done, okay?”

“Alight Toots, whatever you want.” Angel yawned, his body feeling heavier than it had in awhile. Charlie giggled a little, as she usually did at Angel’s terms of endearment, before quickly creeping from the room.

Angel let himself fall into the gentle embrace of sleep, but after what felt like only a few minutes, was roused by something sitting on his chest. Opening his eyes again, he saw Fat Nuggets looking down at him and Charlie grinning at them both from the foot of the bed.

“Alright! Everything is set,” She said, her excitement practically oozing off of her as she jumped a little in place. “Get dressed, okay? Then the three of us will go.”

“Three of us?”

“You, me, and Fat Nuggets of course!” She laughed, and Angel found his mouth twitching upwards. Charlie had that effect on people, even on their worst days.

“Mm, give me a sec doll,” He stretched, cracking his back loudly as he stood. He slipped into a pair of black shorts - mainly because they had been draped over his vanity and he didn’t feel like digging through his dresser - and a cropped t-shirt, for the same reason. He hadn’t had much reason to dress up in the last week, and as much as he was thrilled about it at first, he was starting to wonder why he even bothered in the first place. It wasn’t like anyone actually cared about how he looked in his clothes seeing how most of the time they only cared about what he looked like out of them. “I just gotta get Nugs’ har-”

“Their harness?” Charlie asked, smiling wide. She held the pig up, showing that they were already strapped into their harness and the leash was firmly attached. Angel felt himself smile - he was glad the others cared about Fat Nuggets as much as he did.

“Shall we go then?” Angel asked, offering an arm to Charlie, who took it with a giggle.

He let Charlie lead the way, not really caring about where they were going. Just being out of bed and in direct contact with the Princesses’ optimism had lifted his mood considerably. He was still feeling kind of... heavy, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as before.

Charlie led them to the garden courtyard. It had been a barren wasteland - as the rest of Hell was - until Charlie got it in her head that she was going to bring it to life, just as she had with all of her potted plants on the balcony. One could say her dreams were farfetched, but you could never say she wasn’t determined.

In just the time that Angel had been at the hotel, he had seen the dusty courtyard transformed into a small oasis with grass and flowers and even a large tree that provided shade from the eternal heat that beat down on the citizens of Hell. He had wondered every once in a while how she managed to do all of that - especially the tree part - but he figured he was better off not knowing. There was more to the Princess than anyone really knew, it seemed.

As they walked into the clearing, he saw a small picnic set up already, complete with a basket and a tray holding drinks. Charlie rushed the last few feet, nearly dragging Angel and Nugs behind her as she went.

“Vaggie should be back soon,” She said, gently shoving Angel onto the blanket. The second he sat, Fat Nuggets crawled their way into his lap, snuffling happily at their dad. Angel smiled softly as he tugged a piece of grass from their mouth. “She was making something special!”

Now Angel and Vaggie had been getting along much better recently, but that didn’t mean their relationship wasn’t strained at all. Sometimes it felt like it was more of a truce than a friendship, where they agreed to get along for Charlie’s sake. That being said, Angel didn’t know what to expect hearing that the other woman would be joining them for this impromptu picnic breakfast in the garden,

“You set all of this up?” Angel asked, watching Charlie pull things from the basket. He blinked when he realized she just... kept pulling things out. How was that even possible? The basket was definitely not large enough to hold all of that-

“Mm! I thought it would cheer you up!” She grinned at him, all but shoving an empty plate into his hands. “I know how much you love the garden, and I know you haven’t eaten yet, so I thought this would be the perfect thing to cheer you up!”

Angel gave her a soft half smile. He almost couldn’t believe that she would go to all of this trouble just for him - but then she started piling things onto his plate as she chattered about things that had been going on at the hotel and he remembered that yes, yes she absolutely would go to all the trouble.

“Sorry it took so long,” Vaggie called over to them as she jogged to the blanket. She was holding a plate that had what looked like some sort of pastry on it. “It took longer to cook than I remember.”

“Whatcha got there?” Angel asked as Vaggie sat next to her girlfriend, carefully balancing the plate as she did so.

“I made one of my favorite sweets from when I was alive - semita de piña,” She said, cutting a square and handing it to Angel. “Normally it’s pineapple, but you like strawberry.I know how much you like sweets, so I figured...”

She trailed off, looking at the plate that Charlie was handing her rather than the spider that was openly staring back. Angel took a small bite, the taste of buttery dough and jam filled his mouth. Vaggie and Charlie both whipped their heads up when they heard soft sobs coming from the demon across the blanket from them.

Angel cried into the pastry, sniffling as he ate every bite of the piece given to him. As soon as his hands were free, he covered his face and cried harder.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, moving over to rub his back gently. The action only made the spider sob even harder - it reminded him of how his mother used to comfort him, back when he was still allowed to show emotion.

“N-nothin’s wrong,” He said through his hiccups. “I just- you guys just- I-”

“It’s alright Angel,” Charlie shushed him gently. “Take your time.

“Thanks you guys,” He finally managed to choke out. Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a slightly shocked look before turning their attention back to Angel. “I just- no one’s eva-”

“We’re a family, Angel,” Charlie said, taking one of his bottom hands - the set that wasn’t covering his face. “We take care of family.”

“I just- it’s been so long since...” He trailed off, his voice starting to sound stuffy.

“Well, that’s all in the past,” Vaggie wasn’t nearly as gentle as Charlie, but Angel could hear the edge of support that coated her words when she spoke to her girlfriend. “There’s nothing we can do to change that, but we’re here now, and we can take control of what little we can actually control.”

“Why don’t we finish our breakfast?” Charlie suggested. She tugged Angel’s hands away from his face and gently dabbed at his fur with one of the napkins she had pulled from the basket. “Afterwards we can watch a movie?”

“That sounds fuckin perfect,” Angel chuckled, scrubbing the last of his tears from sore eyes. “Alastor loves to bitch about modern technology, but he sure does love ta watch his picture shows.”

“We can invite Alastor and the others if you want,” Charlie seemed pleased at the suggestion. She was always pushing for them to do more activities together, and for once Angel was the one - in a sense - to suggest it. “Oh, this’ll be so much fun!”

“Babe, sit down and eat,” Vaggie tugged on her girlfriend’s sleeve with a fond smile. The Princess chuckled and did as she was told, taking her plate back and happily taking a bite. They talked as they worked through the copious amount of food that somehow managed to cram into the basket, and by the time Angel’s stomach was about to burst, he realized he hadn’t thought about how down he felt since they started their picnic.

The three made their way towards the parlor, Charlie holding the re-packed basket in one hand and Vaggie’s hand in the other. Angel slipped away to find the others, his smile lighter than it had been all day.

* * *

  
He carefully blended the shadow, creating a perfect flow between the reds and pinks that faded into blues that were accented by lime greens, coloring his eyelids and even the tops of his cheekbones. He was going to a bright, exaggerated look, to make his eyes look even larger and brighter than usual. Angel had been working on his makeup for a while, allowing himself to be careful and meticulous, wanting to take his time to make a masterpiece that no one would see.

He would be going back to work the next day, and he was already stressed beyond belief about it. He just needed something to distract him, and since he was clean from drugs there weren’t many options for him. He could get drunk, sure, and suffer a hangover for his first day back in the studio after his two week vacation. As anxious and stressed as he was, he wasn’t going to risk Valentino getting mad at him so soon.

So instead, he chose to do his makeup in the way that HE liked it. Not the way he did it to make him look sultry, or with the special products that he bought specifically to run easily when he cried. No, he used his nice makeup, the things he saved for special occasions because they made him feel pretty. They made him feel like he was worth something, rather than just a cheap whore.

Staring at himself in the mirror, his thoughts started to quiet. He drifted away from reality, his eyes unfocusing and his brain seemingly going static as his body began to focus more on keeping his lungs working and his heart beating than Angel himself. If it weren't for Fat Nuggets nipping at his bare ankle, Angel never would have heard the polite knocking coming from his bedroom door.

“Come in.” He called, his voice cracking for a moment. He cleared his throat as the person entered, and Angel found himself less surprised than he thought he should be to see the Radio Demon himself gently closing the door behind him.

“Angel, my dear, just the fellow I was looking for.” Alastor grinned, the layered static adding a bounce to his voice.

“I sure ‘ope so, seein how this is my room,” Angel gave the other demon a chuckle, turning back to his vanity. His lower hands were warming his mascara - he needed to get a new one soon, but with the way his human life was, he was nothing if not frugal when it came to his cosmetics. Some of his eyeshadow was from shortly after he came to Hell, decades prior, because he just couldn’t bring himself to throw anything out unless it was completely spent. “Didcha need somethin Smiles?”

“If I am not mistaken, you are scheduled to return to your employment tomorrow evening, correct?” Alastor asked, arms folded neatly behind his back. Angel paused, his eyeliner only done on one eye.

“Uh, yeah, you’re right.” He tried to keep his voice light, but it was clear he was hiding some deeper emotion.

“And what, my I ask, are you doing your makeup for?” Alastor tilted his head to the side slightly, watching Angel finish his other eye through the mirror.

“Helps me forget.” He answered after a moment.

“Seems a little wasteful if you are just going to take it all off again, isn’t it?”

“I guess, but it’ll last ‘bout as long as a high and at least this won’t make me wanna feel like shootin my brains out afterwards,” Angel layered some pink over his cheeks, recreating a blush he would never truly have again. “Besides, this is like... trainin, sorta. Doin makeup in my free time makes it easier when I gotta do it for work.”

“You do seem very proficient,” The other demon said, and Angel almost flinched at the faint compliment. “I can only imagine how many hours you’ve put into your craft.”

“It is like an art, ain’t it?” Angel chuckled. He always had a fascination with art but was never really given a chance to explore it. He read about what he could, and talked about it with Molly, but he never really had the chance to appreciate it properly, or explore it himself. Since coming to Hell, makeup was just one form of art he had dabbled in.

“What is your favorite part of it all?” Alastor asked suddenly. The question was so out of the blue that Angel did jerk back a little, leaving a smear of mascara on his fur. He just sighed and reached for a wipe, carefully dabbing the black smudge as best as he could without messing anything else up.

“Why’re ya curious about makeup all of a sudden?” He asked, partially joking.

“I must say, I haven’t much reason to be interested before, but seeing how you apply your own has gotten me intrigued. I’m always fond of a puzzle, as you know.” Alastor let his usual radio flare into his voice, his words almost dancing. Angel felt a smile tug at his lips as he made eye contact with Alastor for the first time, looking at the other demon through the vanity mirror.

“A puzzle...” He trailed off, musing the idea. Alastor wasn’t quite wrong. Makeup could be seen like a puzzle, one where you have to layer things properly and combine colors in just the right way to make it look good. “I think my favorite is the eyeshadow. The rest just compliments the eyes, you know?”

“I can see you were drawn to bright colors this evening.” Alastor pointed out.

“Mm, makes me feel pretty,” Angel whispered, his eyes boring holes into his own reflection, as if he could force the other Angel to do something he couldn’t. “If I’m gonna be a collectible on someone’s shelf, might as well be nice ta look at.”

“You said it helps you forget? How so?”

“I have ta focus on not fuckin it up, so there ain’t much room for thinkin or rememberin.”

“I understand that, in a sense,” Alastor’s static calmed some, more of his natural voice bleeding in. “That is one reason I enjoy cooking so much. It gives one a chance to just be without the weight of everything else pressing down on you.”

“Exactly,” Angel let out a huff of a chuckle as he closed the mascara. He contemplated doing lashes and lips, but decided against it. Glue and lipstick tended to stain his fur and he needed to have a clean slate for whatever Val had in store for him the next afternoon. “Doesn’t hurt that it gives me a sense of... control, I guess? This place is so fucked up and- and everythin I do is on someone else’s orders, so this is one a the only parts a my life that I can control.”

“It definitely takes a bit of moxie to find control down here,” Alastor agreed. “Like trying to keep a beverage chilled while standing in the middle of a lit fire.”

“If that ain’t the truth.” Angel snorted, unable to stop the image of some poor sap trying to do just that.

Looking up, Angel traced the lines of Alastor’s reflection. His large eyes, his wide smile, the upturn of his nose. The spider wondered what Alastor would look like with a little bit of makeup himself. He was already so pretty, it wasn’t like more pigment could change his appearance all that much, but he would look nice with some red shimmer on his eyes maybe, to accentuate the natural color of his lids. A light layer of blush would look adorable across the bridge of his nose. If Angel was feeling adventurous, he could see red rhinestones glued under the Radio Demon’s eyes, catching the light as he grinned.

“Is there something on my face, my darling?” Alastor’s voice broke Angel from his thoughts.

“Wha- nah ‘course not,” He chuckled, shaking his head a little. “You neva have anythin on your face. Perfect as always, Bambi.”

“Then what were you thinking so hard about that you ended up staring, mon cher?” Alastor seemed to ignore the nickname, and part of Angel hoped it was because he didn’t mind it. He thought Bambi was a cute name.

“Just... ah, you’re gonna get pissed,” he looked down, his mouth curling a little. “It ain’t nothin ta worry about.”

“Now, only I can accurately judge what would and wouldn’t upset me,” Alastor almost seemed offended that Angel wasn’t going to share whatever was on his mind for the deer’s sake. “I would like to see you tick me off properly.”

“I do that all th’ time anyway,” Angel shot Alastor a look. “Just bein ‘round ya ticks ya off.”

“Angel, dear, you seem to be mistaken once again,” Alastor tsked gently. “Yes, once your lewd comments set me on edge, but I’ve come to accept that they are just part of how you are. They are not malicious, as you are not a malicious being. Quite the contrary, really. I find myself enjoying your company greatly, even with the... unfavorable language.”

“Ya really mean that?” he meant to say it like a joke, but it came out a little too soft to be truly a jest.

“Quite.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Angel smiled into the mirror, trying to imagine his work makeup superimposed over his current look and making his stomach roll. “I just... was thinkin you’d look... real swell with your face all done up.”

“Me?” Alastor blinked, his smile dropping in pure surprise.

“Ha, forgedabouttit,” Angel chuckled awkwardly, not sure what to make of the strange expression on the other demon’s normally grinning face. “It ain’t nothing to-”

“What a wacky proposition!” His grin popped back into place, the radio feedback backing his words up made him sound chipper. “I don’t see a reason not to.”

“I’m sorry... what?” Angel was sure he had heard wrong. Maybe his cosmetics were getting to the point where they were poisoning him through his fur, because there was no way that Alastor - the Radio Demon for Hell’s sake! - just agreed to let Angel do his makeup!

“I must admit, I am rather curious to see what you imagine for me,” Alastor rocked back on his heels slightly, his arms behind his back once more. “Someone with your skill must have quite the eye for something like this.”

“You’re okay with me... doin ya face up?” Angel asked slowly, as if trying to understand a foreign language.

“I believe that is what I said!” Alastor’s grin widened at the absolutely gob-smacked look on the spider’s pretty face. “Unless it is too much of a hassle-”

“No! I-” Angel scrambled to his feet. “I, uh, would love ta, Al.”

“Splendid! Just tell me where you need me!”

“Fuck, uh- sit here.” Angel said, gesturing to the vanity seat he had just vacated. He wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but he wasn’t going to complain. He enjoyed spending time with Alastor whenever he had the chance to, and having the shorter man show an interest in his hobbies?

No one had cared about what Angel was interested in. They all saw him as shallow and vapid. They didn't realize he had skills and hopes and fears just like everybody else.

Instead, all they saw was the mask he put on for them - the act he performed almost daily, of the weak, stupid slut that would do anything just for some dick. They didn’t see how Angel would size them up and watch their body language like a predator stalking his prey. They didn’t notice how he would milk their wallets dry with a practiced pout and small voice. They didn’t care that the second the arrangement was over, Angel’s whole face dropped from his flirty smirk into a disgusted grimace.

Yet there was Alastor, sitting at his vanity, waiting patiently for Angel to... do his makeup - something Anthony had been beaten for. Something Angel used to escape. Something Angel used to find himself. Something he wanted Angel to share with him.

“Close ya eyes,” Angel said softly, taking the monocle off and carefully putting it on the vanity, making sure not to smudge the glass at all. Alastor did as he was told, his smile still present but softer, none of his sharp teeth showing. “Uh, I won’t do anything outrageous... I know how ya feel ‘bout touchin so I’ll be careful.”

“Always so thoughtful, my dear.” Alastor didn’t open his eyes, but his smile did widen.

Angel looked at the pallet in his hand and took a calming breath before gently dabbing his brush into one of his favorite shades of pink. He held the brush so his hand wouldn’t be too close to Alastor’s face as he brushed the pigment onto the other demon’s eyes. Alastor, much to his credit, didn’t flinch even a little as Angel worked.

“Do you do others up like this often?” Alastor asked, careful not to move his head to much as he spoke.

“Not really,” Angel said, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “Sometimes Cherri let’s me fuck around when I get new shit in, but most people don’t... uh, care all that much, I guess. It’s fine though. They don’t gotta like what I do. Ironic how Hell gives us more freedom to do tha things we wanna do without being judged too much, ain’t it?”

“It is definitely an interesting look on eternal punishment.” Alastor hummed as Angel tapped the extra pigment off his brush with practiced movements.

“Hey Al,” Angel started, using a larger brush to gently wipe away any loose powder that might have settled on Alastor’s face. When Al hummed in acknowledgement, Angel continued what he was going to say. “What do you think ‘bout Hell?”

“In general, or...?” He raised a single eyebrow without opening his eyes.

“Well, this place is supposed ta be our neva-endin torment to punish us fa being sinnas in our lives, but we have more freedoms than we eva did on Earth. Is it all just... a cop-out? Or like... I dunno ‘ow ta say it. Sometimes it feels like this place is a drug itself, cuz it gives us this fake sense a freedom ‘n happiness when in reality we’ll neva actually be happy here.”

“It sounds like you’ve put quite a lot of thought into this,” Alastor remarked. He felt something wet against his eyelids but did not allow himself to move. He could feel how careful Angel was being to avoid touching him too much, and the extra caution on his behalf warmed his chest in an odd way. “I suppose you are correct, in a sense. Hell is an eternal punishment, correct. Simultaneously, we are indeed given more freedoms to do as we please here. While it seems like a distinct contradiction, I believe your observation about a false sense of security is very astute. We are led to believe this is a paradise for sinners, yet can we ever actually be content, let alone happy?”

“I get why Charlie is tryin so ‘ard to get us to redemption,” Angel picked up a flyer for takeout and used it like a fan to gently dry Alastor’s eyeliner. “She really does see th’ best in everyone. Even the worst a us... she wants us to find real happiness, not whatever bullshit we’re tryin to use to pretend.”

“The Princess is one of the most intriguing souls I’ve had the pleasure to meet in a long while,” Alastor admitted. “I can think of only three others that have caught my attention so quickly since passing on.”

“Who are th’ othas?” Angel couldn’t stop himself from asking. He knew that Alastor knew that if he really didn’t want to answer, he didn’t have to. Alastor was silent for a moment, and Angel was about to accept that he didn’t want to talk about it, when he opened his mouth again.

“The first was dear Niffty,” He said easily. “Never had another demon looked at me with such... innocence. I knew what she had gone through - we made a contract after all. Despite everything, she is still... the way she is today. She was very interesting. I wanted to see how long it would take for her to snap, but over time I became more interested in seeing what shenanigans she would find her way into.”

“That sounds like her.” Angel snorted lightly.

“The second was Husker. When I first came across him, he seemed so accepting of his fate. It was almost heartbreaking how he just... rolled over and let Hell do as it pleased. I took him under my metaphorical wing because I was curious. What could have happened to this small demon that would break his spirit so badly before ever even stepping foot onto Hell’s burning streets. Of course, I understood a little more after we made our deal, but his apathy always fascinated me. He would just go along with the tasks I had for him with nothing more than superficial complaints. It was as if he had no care for himself, or what he did. He did as I said to fill something he had lost, is what I gathered. Since starting at the hotel, however, I’ve seen a shift in him. It’s even more entertaining to see that old cat learn new tricks than it was to see him wasting away.”

“You sure have an interestin way of showin affection Al,” Angel shook his head fondly. He had seen a similar change in Husk, and was glad it was a change for the better. “And the third?”

“Mm? Ah yes, the third...” Alastor trailed off for a moment, distracted by the feeling of a soft brush tickling over his nose and cheeks. “The third is you, my dear.”

“Huh?” Angel almost dropped his brush in shock.

“Is it truly that much of a surprise?” Alastor’s laugh track played faintly. “But yes, you are one of - if not THE - most interesting souls I’ve ever met, dead or alive.”

“That’s... but I’m not all that interestin...” Angel trailed off, trying to figure out why his chest seemed to be fluttering. Did he eat something bad? Was this a late term wave of withdrawal?

“Quite the contrary, mon cher!” Alastor’s voice regained it’s usual echoed bounce. Angel found himself relaxing a little at the familiar tone. “You are, by far, one of the most intriguing sinners this pestilent-pocked pentagram has! In all my years, I’ve never met someone with as many masks as you do, my dear.”

“Guess I am a bit of a performa,” Angel chuckled. “Makes for a good show.”

“Not just that,” Alastor’s tone softened again. Angel felt... vulnerable because of it, and he didn’t know why. “You are interesting because you have so many sides. Most sinners are very one dimensional. They want one thing - be it money, or physical pleasures, or carnage. Not many of us have... not many of us are like you, Angel.”

“Oh...” He honestly didn’t know what to say to that. He let silence wash over them for a moment before putting his brush down. “Um, ya can open ya eyes. I think it turned out pretty aight, if I do say so myself.”

Alastor did as he was told and stared at himself in the mirror, his already large eyes widening even more at the sight that greeted him. He didn’t look all that different, really. His eyes were framed with a soft shimmery red that gave them more emphasis. There was black at the corners of his eyes that made them look even larger. His normally ashen complexion was covered with a fine blush, and it looked like Angel had even added some freckles on top of the layers of blush.

“It looks marvelous, my dear,” Alastor said, his voice heavy with an unnamed emotion, and Angel felt himself flushing under his fur, not expecting such a genuine reaction. “You truly are skilled. I feel honored that you shared this with me.”

“I-it ain’t that special,” Angel grumbled, not entirely sure how to accept Alastor’s compliments. He was fine with comments on his body, or how well he fucked, but this was something real. This was something from the heart, and that was something Angel had no real experience in. “No need to getcha tail inna twist over.”

“I believe if you were to offer this same service to Charlotte, she would be most thrilled.”

“Maybe...” Angel let his bottom arms hug himself. He did it subconsciously, whenever he felt out of his element.

“It truly is a shame that you must return to your work tomorrow,” Alastor said, the usual pep in his voice nowhere to be found. “The hotel will be quiet without you.”

“It’s only for a few hours,” Angel huffed in amusement. “Besides it’s not like I do much around here anyway. Toots would probably be a lot less stressed if I just fucked off.”

Angel laughed at his joke as he cleaned up his makeup. He didn’t notice how the static seemed to spike for a moment, or how Alastor’s ears pressed against his head despite his smile never faltering.

“But is that what you want?” He asked, hiding the strain in his voice behind radio interference. Angel paused what he was doing, thinking about Alastor’s question before sighing and responding.

“Not really, but it ain’t like this gig’ll last all eternity,” he sounded resigned. “As much as I ‘ppriciate everythin Toot’s done, I know it won’t last foreva... I know I’ll have ta crawl back to Val one of these days...”

“What are your true feelings towards Valentino?” Alastor knew he crossed a line the second Angel froze.The Radio Demon rarely felt remorse, but in that moment he wished he could take his question back.

“Uh, I’m not sure, to be completely honest,” Angel responded quietly. “I... hate ‘im. He uses me, and beats me up, and lets ‘is stupid clients fuck me without givin me any a the cut when it’s all over. I hate ‘im... but I also don’t. I know it’s fucked, but I love ‘im too. He calls me pretty and buys me nice things if I behave. When that asshole got too rough, Val was th’ one to get ‘im off me. Sure, he didn’t stop when I used my safeword, but he didn’t let me get double killed. Besides... he says ‘e loves me back. That’s gotta count fa somethin, right?”

“Angel, I may be a cannibalistic killer but even I can see several things wrong with what you’ve just said.” Alastor’s throat felt tight. As much as he tortured and killed and sinned, he never manipulated his prey quite like this. He never stalked or chased, and he certainly never used emotional gaslighting to keep his prey under his thumb. It was enough to make his stomach roll, but what did he expect? This was Valentino after all.

“It’s fine,” Angel let out a humorless laugh. “Not like there’s anythin I can do ‘bout it now. He’s got my contract.”

“That is quite the predicament.” Alastor wanted to argue, try to make Angel see the reality of his situation, but he knew it was pointless. As hard as Angel was trying to go clean, he would never accept what Val was doing to him until he was able to acknowledge that the Overlord was working to hurt him.

“Thanks for keepin me company Al,” Angel gave him a small smile. Alastor thought the spider looked particularly exhausted. “It means alot ta me that you’d... eh, nevamind... don’t sleep with all that crap on ya face. You’ll break out.”

“Of course, my dear. Thank you for the warning,” Alastor smiled, arms behind his back as if there wasn’t a tidal wave of rage brewing deep in his chest. “This has been an enlightening evening to say the least.”

“Hey, maybe when I get ‘ome we can catch a drink if it ain’t too late,” Angel winked at the other demon, nothing behind the gesture except playfulness. Alastor felt his smile soften around the edges, no longer sharp with anger aimed at someone across the city. “I’m sure if Husky is still up he’d be willin to chat with us.”

“Mm, sounds wonderful, darling,” Alastor found he was being truthful. A few months ago, he would never be caught dead or alive willingly drinking with the spider, yet there he was, looking forward to doing just that. What was Angel doing to him? “I shall leave you to your rest now.”

“Night, Smiles.”

“Sweet dreams, mon ange,” Alastor stepped back into a shadow. “Do not let the sinners bite.”

Angel blinked and he was once again alone in his room. With a chuckle and a shake of his head, he took a few pictures to commemorate the work he put into his makeup before taking it all off and getting into bed. The morning would bring one of the hardest days he’s had to face in a long time. He hoped he made it home in time to see Husk and Al.

He hoped he made it home at all.

In his room, Alastor stood facing the standard mirror that he didn’t have any motivation to remove despite not matching any of the other decor. He studied his face, and wondered just how Angel managed to accentuate his features while also not making it look like he was wearing half the cosmetic store.

“You look stunning!” His microphone chirped, popping into existence and floating just beside Alastor’s head. “That spider sure knows his way around some color.”

“Hm, yes,” Alastor chuckled and snapped his fingers, changing into something more comfortable for sleeping. Glancing back to the mirror, he realized the pang in his chest was one of disappointment - disappointment that he had snapped away all of Angel’s hard work so quickly. “Maybe I’ll ask him to redo it one day. For his sake, of course.”

“Of course,” His staff snickered. Alastor wondered if he made a mistake, creating a sentient microphone to be his weapon of choice. “Are you really going to let him go back to Valentino? He’ll be ripped to pieces there.”

“What Angel does is his own decision,” He said, fully well knowing that wasn’t the truth at all. Alastor knew better than most the qualities of a contract. Each Overlord wrote them differently, but he was not oblivious of how every other Overlord did theirs compared to his. He was a gentleman, after all - something not a single other soul could brag of. “Though, seeing how he is under my protection, if something were to happen to him...”

The shadows grew as his face flickered, eyes darkening as his teeth seemed to sharpen even more. His antlers cracked, getting larger as glowing symbols floated through the suffocating shadows. Sounds of screams and shouts filtered through the radio interference as his eyes began to glow bloody red. A deep chuckle seemed to come up from the depths of Hell itself as Alastor’s body elongated.

“If something happened to him, Valentino won’t have the time to ponder the consequences.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shameless filler because I wanted some fluff before things got angsty again! I really do try to balance the hurt and the comfort, and this was my peace offering because the next chapters are gonna be painful XD
> 
> For Husk's backstory, I definitely look some liberties. I couldn't really find anything official other than when he died, so I did a little research on that time period and figured the Vietnam war would have been fitting. I know technically Husk probably would have been too old to be drafted but since we don't really know all that much, and I'm the author, I decided to have some fun! Same with Niffty, but hers was more ambiguous. I also did some research for Vaggie and what she made for Angel. I hope I didn't get any details wrong 😅😅


	5. Downfall of Control

Angel Dust hated the look on Charlie’s face. She was in tears, desperation written clearly in her watery eyes.

“Please don’t go back Angel,” She begged again, as she had been doing since he came down the stairs dressed for work. “Just stay here! You don’t need to work. Between me and Alastor, we can pay for anything you need, and-”

“Listen Toots, I ‘ppriciate whatcha trynna do, but...” He sighed. He wanted nothing more than to go back up to his room, strip out of his too small dress and put his sweatshirt back on and possibly even not leave his bed for the rest of the day, but he couldn’t. “You know betta than anyone Charles... He’s got my soul contract.”

Charlie gasped, her eyes widening more. Under her bright markings, she paled.

“Angel, please tell me he doesn’t really have your soul contract.” She whispered, horror painted clear as day on her face.

There were different kinds of contracts, from mild agreements to soul contracts, which are the most binding kind. Angel, not knowing the difference, easily signed his soul to Val after being promised anything and everything he could ever want - all in exchange for being Val’s prized toy. At the time, it seemed like the deal of a lifetime! He didn’t have anything to his name other than his looks, and here this fearsome demon was personally asking him to be under his care. There had been a time when Anthony would have killed to have a strong, handsome man take care of his every whim, so when that very dream was handed to him on a silver platter, he took it.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t known what that contract had actually meant. As soon as he signed, Valentino owned him, body and soul. Any Overlord that looked at him would instantly know he belonged to Valentino. He was nothing more than a pretty ring to be shown off, and there was no way to get his freedom back.

Technically, he could be set free if Valentino himself either signed it over to someone else, or destroyed the contract of his own free will, but other than that he was stuck. It couldn’t be destroyed by a third party, and it wouldn’t work if Val was forced. There was a single way for him to get his freedom back, and it was less realistic than Angel reaching redemption and going to heaven to escape hell.

“Sorry, wish I could,” he really did. He didn’t want to make Charlie upset, but there was nothing he could do. His hands were tied - metaphorically, for the moment. He was sure they would be literally tied at some point this evening. He felt his phone buzz in his chest fluff, where he shoved his things when he didn’t have pockets or a bag. He knew it was Val, telling him that the limo was waiting out front for him. “I gotta go... I’ll be back tonight, aight?”

“Please be careful,” Charlie whispered, leaning into Vaggie’s touch. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you again.”

“Don’t stress ya pretty lil head Princess,” Angel gave a falsely confident smile to the woman, who only sniffled again. “I’ll be back before ya know it.”

He left before anyone else could say anything. He wasn’t thrilled that Charlie and Vaggie had been there to see him off - he was hoping to slip out without running into anyone at all - but there was still a part of him that was almost disappointed not to see one particular face.

Angel tried to push thoughts of Alastor from his mind as he slipped into the familiar, overly polished limo that was idling just outside of the hotel doors. He was instantly greeted by the familiar stench of smoke and the underlying hints of sweat and regret. He sat a seat away from Valentino, almost cowering away as the limo started to drive.

“Angel Cakes~” Val purred, his sharp grin only widening. “Baby you look gorgeous. I’m so happy you healed up nicely. Not a single scar marring your beautiful fur... why are you sitting so far away from me? Is my Angel angry with his Daddy?”

“N-no, of course not,” Angel hated how he stuttered. Weakness was a primrose path, leading directly to one’s own demise. He needed to play his cards carefully or else he might end up in worse shape than two weeks ago. “I musta gotten used ta keepin a distance from th’ othas at the hotel.”

“That’s alright Baby,” Valentino cooed, patting the seat next to him. Angel only hesitated for a beat before crawling across the limo and settling in close to Val’s side. He suppressed a shudder when Val’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. “Those fuckers wouldn’t know how to handle you properly anyway. That’s why you got me - I’m the only one that can treat you well Angel Cakes.”

“Of course, Daddy,” The name tasted sour. “You love me the most.”

“Damn right I do!” Val laughed, his whole body shaking. Angel’s throat burned, but he refused to let it show. “Now, lemme tell you about the scenes I got lined up for you baby. You’re gonna love them. I picked them out ‘specially for my precious Angel.”

Val took a drag from his cigarette and let out a heavy breath, red smoke filling the limo almost instantly. Angel only had a split second to take a deep breath of his own. They were almost to the studio, and Val had the windows cracked open. If he could hold his breath long enough, he could avoid inhaling too much of the drugged smoke. He knew it was inevitable - that he was going to breathe some in at some point - but he would be eternally damned a second time if he was going to roll over and let Val drug him without a fight.

Angel subtly let out the breath he had been holding, pacing himself so as not to gulp the fresh air as soon as the doors opened. Val didn’t seem stressed in the slightest, so as long as Angel let himself act lethargic no one would know he was fighting back in the only way he could.

As they entered the studio, Angel swallowed back a wave of tears. Val’s claws dug into his shoulder as the other actors cheered at his return. He could see the demons that were already preparing to fuck him on the other side of the room. His stomach rolled.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to give himself over to these demons, to do whatever they wished with his body without a way to tap out. He didn’t want to have to see the worry and fear in his friend’s eyes when they saw the state he was inevitably going to be in when he finally stumbled back to the hotel.

Angel bit the inside of his cheek as he smirked at the camera. It was almost too easy to slip back into his star persona. He just had to get through the next few hours, then he could go back to the hotel.

Then he could go home.

“Mon ange...” Alastor breathed, his stomach plummeting to the ground.

“Hey there Smiles,” Angel’s voice was barely a whisper. He wasn’t nearly as beat up as he expected to be, but he still was unable to walk without a limp and he was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated. “Glad ta see I aint too late.”

“Shit kid, you look...” Husk’s eyes widened as they approached the bar.

“Gorgeous as ever, don’t I know it.” Angel winked, but his words seemed to slur slightly.

“Are you... alright, my dear?” Alastor helped Angel sit in on the barstool. He didn’t like how the spider seemed to lean just a little too heavily on his side.

“A course!” Angel giggled, his eyes misty. “Feelin’ on top a th’ world hot stuff.”

“Val...” Husk growled, recognizing the glazed look in the other demon’s eye.

“Val? Val’s ‘ere?” Angel perked up, looking around with a frown.

“No, mon cher, you’re safe.” Alastor put a hand on the spider’s back, helping the other stay upright.

“Safe...” Angel said, as if tasting the word for the first time. “Am I home?”

“Yeah kid, you’re home.” Husk handed Angel a glass of water. Angel took it and began sipping at it, not even realizing that it wasn’t the alcohol he had promised to share with Al and Husk.

“Al...”

“Yes, mon ange?”

“...’m tired.

“Rest will be good for you. darling,” Alastor summoned his microphone and with a tap opened a shadow portal. Husk helped Angel to his feet, scowling as the spider stumbled, seemingly unaware of where he was. “We are retiring for the evening, Husker. Thank you for everything.”

“Whaddya thankin me for?” Husk snapped, looking down. “I didn’t do shit.”

“Of course, but nonetheless.” Alastor offered the cat demon a genuine smile. He made sure he had a firm grip on Angel before stepping through the portal. Once in Angel’s bedroom, Alastor used his shadow arms to help the lanky demon get ready for bed without touching him outright.

It was odd for Alastor to realize that it was solely for Angel’s sake. He wouldn’t have minded being the one to help Angel, but judging on the state the other came back in, he figured the spider wouldn’t be too eager to be touched - especially when he was delirious.

He watched as the shadow arms carefully wiped the makeup from Angel’s face and soaked the crust from his fur. He made sure Angel was changed into his favorite pajamas - a set of pink silk shorts and tank top combo with cream trim - and settled him into the bed. Fat Nuggets hopped up and snuggled in close to their dad, licking Angel’s chin with a soft huffing sound.

Angel, somehow still faintly awake, gave the pig the smallest, softest smile Alastor had ever seen on the face of another creature. The second Fat Nuggets settled down against Angel’s chest, the spider demon instantly fell asleep, his breathing shallow.

Alastor stepped through a shadow and entered his own room, his mouth heavy with a scowl. He felt rage boiling in his chest - how DARE Valentino treat Angel like that? He was pushing his luck and Alastor wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to play nice with the other Overlord.

With a wave of a hand, Alastor summoned his shadow, its glowing grin lighting up the dim room. He nodded to it, and it nodded back before slipping out under his door.

Alastor waited until the shadow was settled by Angel’s bed before allowing himself to relax. If anything were to happen in the night, his shadow would alert him immediately. It gave him some comfort to know that Angel wasn’t alone while in this state.

He looked at himself in the same mismatched mirror and sighed. When had he gotten so soft? He used to be feared, but now...

“What am I doing?” He asked the empty room, no radio static to be heard.

* * *

  
Angel’s days became a blur. He did his best to avoid Val’s red smoke, but there was only so much he could do when he was being plowed by some nameless demon for the fifth consecutive hour of the day. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been given a day off, and found it even harder to recall the last time he had managed a meal with his friends. He hoped it had only been a few weeks since things started blending together - not like when he first came to Hell and he spent almost ten years in a drugged haze where he barely even knew his own name.

“Hey baby...” He muttered as he fell to his knees, holding his arms open for Fat Nuggets to run and jump into. He snuggled close to the pig, relishing in the moment of familiarity. He was sorely lacking any sort of comfort recently.

Val was doing this on purpose, and Angel knew this. He knew that his boss was trying to isolate him, and make him dependent on the Overlord once more. He was trying to wear Angel down until he was nothing more than the dust he was so aptly named after. He was trying to make Angel give up, and he was starting to win. Angel found it hard to get out of bed, each day getting rougher and rougher. He remembered his last interaction with his boss.

“Oh Angel Cakes, you don’t look so good,” Val cooed with a frown. Angel leaned into the moth’s hand, letting the larger demon cup his cheek. His eyes were unfocused and vacant. He almost wished he was properly high, because this emotional shutdown was somehow even worse. He was a stranger in his own skin, and there was nothing he could do. “Is there anything Daddy can do to make it better?”

Angel didn’t respond.

“Come on now baby, don’t be like that,” Val pouted, running his thumbs along the spots under Angel’s eyes. Angel didn’t flinch away from the tender touch. “I wanna make you happy. You know that, right Angie?”

“Yes Mista Valentino.” Angel whispered, his voice soft.

“That’s my good boy,” Val pulled Angel into a kiss. Angel didn’t bother to try to fight it. He let the larger demon’s tongue into his mouth, keeping his venomous teeth out of the way like he had been trained. “Now, why doncha rest up for a bit? You have another scene in about three hours and I want my precious doll looking his best.”

“Yes Val.”

“That’s my good boy.” He grinned and blew a kiss in Angel’s direction, red smoke curling like chains around the spider’s throat. Angel hoped his boss hadn’t caught on that he had been holding his breath whenever the smoke surrounded him, because if Val found out he was resisting, it wouldn’t end well for Angel.

The smoke stayed even after Val left. Angel knew he could walk over to the window and throw it open, taking a breath of fresh air to soothe his burning lungs or...

Or he could give in. He could inhale the smoke and lost himself, even for a moment. He could give in and let the sweet release of a high cool the fire burning in his chest. Angel thought about his decision for a single moment before letting out the breath he had been holding. A second later, he inhaled the smoke.

* * *

  
“Angel, I’m glad you made it,” Charlie smiled at him. She had been trying to schedule an hour where they could talk about things - she said therapy would help them, but it seemed no one believed sinners would do well with psychoanalyzing. “Is there anything you want to talk about today?”

“Ain’t nothin to talk about Toots.” Angel said, staring at his hands.

“You don’t have to be afraid here,” Charlie knew something was very, very wrong with the spider but she couldn’t do anything if Angel didn’t let her in. “You can say anything and there won’t be any kind of punishment or repercussions. I promise.”

“I’m just... tired,” Angel looked up at Charlie, his eyes sticking to a painting on the wall just over her shoulder. “Haven’t been sleepin’ all that great.”

“Are you having nightmares?” It was an honest question. Angel wouldn’t be the first member of their little misfit family to have trouble sleeping because their mind was plagued by horrors of their own making.

“Somethin like that,” Angel sounded as dead as he felt. He wondered where everything went wrong. “Hey Toots?”

“Yes?” Charlie perked up. Angel rarely initiated anything himself during their meetings.

“Ya eva wonda if... we eva had a choice?” He kept his voice low.

“A choice? In what?” She had her pen poised over the notepad, but she wasn’t sure what to write seeing how she had no idea where the other was going with this question.

“I neva wanted to go inta th’ family business,” Angel admitted, though he had never been all that secretive about his distaste for his human life. “But I neva had a choice, ya know? I was just a kid when I got dragged inta all my Pop’s fuckin’ shit. Sometimes I wonda... if I was born to end up here.”

“Born to end up... here?” Charlie’s throat stung a little.

“Why else would I be born in th’ first place? ‘S not like I had any real option to stay clean when I was alive, just like I didn’t have any option when I got ta Hell,” Angel picked at the chair he was sitting in, his slim fingers tugging at the loose threads. “Neva believed in a God, despite Mama and Pops bein’ true blood Italian. Always thought it was a waste a time to pray ta somethin’ that didn’t care about you, and I’m startin’ to wonda if I was destined to end up in Hell from th’ very start.”

“No one is destined to be a bad person, Angel,” Charlie put her notepad down, her eyes soft with understanding. Who would relate to the idea of being born to be in Hell better than the princess of Hell herself? “That’s one reason why I believe in the hotel so much. I know for a fact that there are so many souls down here that are only here because they had to do... bad things to survive. They don’t deserve to be punished for wanting to live...”

“I just- why? Why can’t anythin’ go right?” Angel whispered, more to himself than to the demon across from him. Charlie watched helplessly as Angel broke down in tears.

Neither spoke for the rest of his hour-long session, and by the time he walked out of the room, there was no sign of what happened behind closed doors.

* * *

  
“So good for me, Angel Cakes...” Valentino panted, his signature coat and glasses thrown carelessly over his desk as he pounded into Angel’s body. Apparently Angel had done such an amazing job with his scenes that day that Val just HAD to reward his favorite star - and by reward, he meant fucking Angel and sending the spider off with a shiny new gift.

Angel wondered why Val even let him go back to the hotel at the end of his work day. Maybe it was so he didn’t have to pay anything for Angel’s room and board at the studios, or maybe he just wanted to see Angel fail, or both - the more realistic answer, if he was being honest with himself.

“Shit- my pretty Angel...” Val’s thrusts became sloppy. Angel let it happen, knowing the sooner Valentino came, the sooner he could go back to the hotel. He barely even felt it, his body too numb from the scenes and from the drugs he wasn’t able to avoid. All he could feel was his own heartbeat, thudding steadily against his ribs, like a drum that refused to stop. He wasn’t even sure how long he had been in Val’s office, bent over one of the stupid heart shaped couches. Honestly, he didn’t care - time meant nothing when you were lost in the safety of your own head. Nothing could hurt him as long as he kept his consciousness separated from his body. With a final thrust, Angel felt heat gush into his body and apathetically looked back at his boss. “Perfect, as always. Daddy is so proud of you, you know. You did so well for me today.”

Angel listened to the poisoned flattery, his traitorous heart tugging towards Valentino, desperate for validation. All he wanted was to be good - to be praised and loved.

“Here, Daddy got you a little something,” Like clockwork, Val went over to his desk and shrugged his coat on before grabbing a small velvet case and going back over to Angel, who hadn’t moved a muscle. “Something pretty for something pretty.”

Angel took the case, his hands trembling ever so slightly. He opened the case and saw a gorgeous bangle bracelet, thick and gold with precious gems made to look like stained glass forming the shape of flowers along it. Just looking at it told Angel it was worth more than he was, but he knew what would happen if he ever rejected a gift from Val - he never wanted to experience that sort of punishment again.

“It’s beautiful,” Angel whispered, his throat sore from how many dicks were shoved down it that day. “Thank you.”

“Thank you...?” Val prompted, his grin growing sharper.

“Thank you Daddy,” Angel answered robotically. “I love it.”

“That’s my good boy,” Val’s smile now took up a majority of his face, but unlike Alastor’s full-face grins, it didn’t make Angel feel like he was in on some inside joke. It made Angel feel dirty. “Now, the limo should be waiting out front for you. Clear yourself up before you go. Don’t want any stains on the seats, right?”

“Of course Daddy,” Angel nodded his head, his bangs covering his face. “Thank you.”

“I’ll see you the day after tomorrow Baby.”

“Yes Daddy.” Angel ducked out of the office, velvet case clutched tightly in his hands. It took him only fifteen minutes to tidy up - he had gotten better and better at cleaning himself and running out the door as fast as physically possible, and it would have only taken ten if he hadn’t stopped to empty the contents of his stomach - and before he knew it, Angel was back in the limo he had come to despise so much, headed in the direction of the one place he knew he would be safe.

The lobby was empty when he quietly entered the hotel. Part of him was relieved - the last thing he wanted to deal with was talking to anyone about his appearance, or how late he was, or how tired he looked - but another part of him was disappointed.

Did they not care about him anymore? Did they finally decide he wasn’t worth all the effort? Did they finally give up on him, like he had been expecting to happen months ago? Was he going to be kicked out of the hotel? Sent back to Valentino like a dog with its tail between its legs because he wasn’t worth redeeming in any way-

A paper on the desk caught his attention.

_Angel, Vaggie and I had to go away overnight for business and Husk isn’t feeling well so Niffty is taking care of him. I’m sorry no one will be awake to welcome you home, but I’ll definitely make it up to you! It’s a promise! Love, Charlie :D_

Angel wondered how it was raining inside the hotel, the sudden water droplets making the ink run in a few places. Looking up, he didn’t see any clouds, but it didn’t stop the rain from rolling down his cheeks. He folded the note carefully and tucked it in the bracelet’s case for safekeeping.

Making his way up the stairs, he realized Charlie’s note hadn’t mentioned Alastor at all - it made sense, seeing how the Radio Demon wasn’t technically part of the staff and had no real obligations around the hotel other than being a sponsor and protector. It wouldn’t be too out of character for Alastor to spend his evenings in his own home, rather than the dusty hotel lobby, waiting for Angel to stumble home.

“Nuggies~” Angel cooed as he opened the door to his room. He always left the pink vanity light on, so Fat Nuggets wouldn’t be in complete darkness while he was away. He saw how they made a little nest with their designated pile of blankets and clothing that Angel never wore anymore. He smiled - a small, tired thing, really - at his baby’s antics. “Were ya a good piggy while Daddy was away?”

He scooped the pig into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of their head. Fat Nuggets chuffed happily, licking Angel’s chin as his spots glowed a little brighter. Angel felt the vice around his heart loosen some, making it a little easier to breathe for the first time that day. Fat Nuggets always knew how to make Angel feel better.

“Time fa bed, aight?” He asked, as if his pig could answer. Fat Nuggets sneezed, their chubby body falling down onto their backside from the sudden motion. Angel smiled, wishing he had been able to film how cute his baby was. He tucked the bracelet and note into his vanity drawer, where several other velvet cases were stored, never to be opened again.

He dreaded the idea of showering, preferring to just go to bed and sleep until it was time for him to go back to the studio again, but he knew he would regret laying in his bed in the state he was in. In record time, Angel was out of the shower and dressed for bed, his fur still slightly damp as he flicked off the lights and hoisted Fat Nuggets up onto the bed with him.

“Goodnight baby,” He whispered, feeling Fat Nuggets nosing at his arms to find a comfortable spot to settle down for the night. As they did so, one of their spines caught on Angel’s arm, ripping into his skin easily as if he were made of paper. “Fuck- I hafta trim ya spikes, Nugs. They’re gettin’ sharp again...”  
He trailed off at the feeling of something wet running down his arm. The smell of blood filled his senses, but that wasn’t wasn’t worried Angel.

No, what worried Angel was how the sudden flare of pain seemed to lighten the weight sitting directly on his chest. He was worried about how the destructive part of his mind - the one that urged him to smoke an entire pack of cigarettes in a single sitting, and to throw himself off the balcony just to see what would happen, and to see how long it took for his arms to regenerate if he were to rip them off - was all but begging him to take away more of the weight. It was pleading with him to make more pretty lines and watch his blood stain his fur until his head was light and there was no pressure keeping him from breathing properly.

It would be too easy, really. His weapon of choice was firearms, which he could summon in an instant if he wanted to, but he was also able to summon a knife at the snap of his fingers. It would take mere seconds for him to have something sharp enough to take away his pain. He could let himself bleed out a little, then he would be able to sleep without fear of nightmares or insomnia making him go insane-

He could feel the skin around the shallow scratch knitting back together. A cut as small as that takes minutes at most to heal, leaving nothing more than a silvery line hidden under snow white fur.

Angel took a deep breath, counting a four count in, holding for a four count, and an eight count out. He repeated this until his heart wasn’t beating erratically and his eyes were heavy with sleep. Hugging Fat Nuggets a little closer, Angel drifted off.

* * *

  
He walked into the hotel with a dazed smile. He had gone to the studio as he was told to, only to be met with Valentino’s scowl. Apparently, too many people had made comments about how bad Angel’s health was getting, and Val wasn’t able to get enough clients in to make up for the money he would have put out on the sets and equipment.

“Take the weekend off,” He had said, his grin looking menacing. Angel barely held back a gasp when the larger demon handed him a fair sized stack of cash. “Rest, eat, pamper yourself for a few days. When you come back on Monday, I’m expecting you to be bright eyed and bushy tailed for my clients.”

Angel hadn’t argued. He tried to keep the smile off his face as the limo turned right back around and drove him back to the hotel. He climbed the steps to the front door three at a time, his grin breaking out fully as soon as the limo was out of sight.

He opened the doors and closed them quickly behind him, as if Val would come and pull him back if he was exposed to the outside air any longer.

“Angel? Didn’t you just leave?” Niffty was the first to rush through the lobby - on her way to do something in another room, no doubt - only to stop dead at the sight of the spider standing with his chin up.

“Mm, I got the next few days off,” He grinned, his chest feeling light. “Val told me to pamper myself this weekend.”

“Oh, that’s odd.” Niffty said easily.

“Odd?”

“I didn’t think Valentino would care about someone like that,” She answered with a small shrug. “So why give you time off?”

Angel didn’t have an answer for her. She was right - Val was known to work his employees half to second death, some even opting to allow themselves to be exterminated by the angels to avoid having to continue under the Overlord’s thumb. Angel, while able to draw in exuberant amounts of money, was not particularly strong physically - not compared to Val or Vox or Alastor - and he wasn’t the only money maker in Val’s arsonal, so why was he being so nice to Angel all of a sudden?

‘He wants to break you,’ a traitorous part of his mind whispered. ‘He wants you to think you’re important, so it hurts more when he betrays you.’

Angel shook his head, trying to physically dislodge the voice. Sure, Val wasn’t the best, but he cared about Angel. Why else would he go out of his way to make sure Angel was rested and uninjured? Why else would he give Angel time off? Give Angel money to buy himself nice things?

It was because Val loved Angel.

“I’m gonna go back ta sleep for a bit,” He told Niffty, who was already across the room, dusting one of the many picture frames on the walls. Angel hadn’t seen her move at all.

“Tell Charlie that I’ll be down fa lunch.”

“Okay!” She chirped, moving to the next room.

Angel was glad Val started moving his schedules up. Instead of getting to the studio after dinner and filming into the night, they started doing scenes during the day. Sure, he had to wake up early for them, but it meant he was able to be back at the hotel with plenty of time to shower, eat with the others and take his time going to sleep.

It wasn’t even ten, so Angel had at least three hours before he needed to shuffle back downstairs. He wasn’t hungry, seeing how he barely ever ate breakfast anymore. His body had gotten used to not eating its first meal until later in the day, so he didn’t even start to feel peckish until two in the afternoon.

He didn’t bother to change, having gone to work in cotton shorts and a cropped t-shirt. He had been planning on changing once he got to the studio, the staff having told him ahead of time that they were going to supply the outfit. He tossed himself on his bed, sighing happily as his body seemed to melt into the fluffy blankets. Fat Nuggets climbed onto the bed and flopped down next to Angel. Despite having been up and awake for a while, Angel found himself falling instantly back to sleep, not even bothering with turning his lights off before he was out cold.

_He arched into the touch, the hand around his waist large enough to wrap all the way around as they held him down. He wondered where he was. This certainly wasn’t a studio set, and he hadn't been to any motels recently. The person thrusting into him said something, but it was garbled, as if they were trying to speak through a mouthful of nails._

_Angel felt panic bubble up in his throat, but he couldn’t cry out. No matter what, his open mouth didn’t let any sound out. He tried pushing the other person off, but they were as sturdy as a brick wall against his weak punches. They wrapped their other hand around his throat, pinning his head to the bed. He tried pushing again, only to find he was missing an arm._

_He was finally able to scream. Angel bellowed as phantom pain shot up his body. The other person paid him no mind, not seeming to even notice the demon below them sobbing and writhing. He still couldn’t see who was above him, their face shrouded by dark shadows._

_“Nothin’ more than a whore,” A familiar voice said. Angel felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. “Shoulda drowned ya when I had the chance. Fuckin’ pathetic.”_   
_His father’s voice floated to him, seemingly from the other side of the room. The demon above him grunted as his father continued berating him._

_“A disgrace. A worthless faggot. Why don’t you try to at least die with some honor?”_

_“A lost cause,” Vaggie’s voice took over where his Father’s trailed off. “Not worth the stress...”_

_“Don’t fuckin’ touch me you six armed asshole.” Husk._

_“Angel, just... can’t you try? It’s like you don’t care at all.” Charlie._

_“Can’t you watch where you walk? Now I’ll have to redo the carpets!” Niffty._

_“Please refrain from touching me in the future,” Alastor. “I don’t know where you’ve been, and contracting a disease isn’t in my itinerary for the evening.”_

Angel felt his entire body give out. He stared at nothing, the dream - it had to be a dream. It was the only explanation - fading around him.

He sat up with a strangled scream, accidentally shoving Fat Nuggets from the bed. The pig huffed as he landed on the thick carpeting, unharmed bit indignant nonetheless.

Angel covered his face with his hands, chest heaving as he tried to understand what the fuck was going on.

He started with his body. His hips weren’t sore, and he could feel all six arms where they were supposed to be. He pulled his third pair out and counted his fingers one by one. By the time he got to thirty, his breathing was less erratic and the panic coursing through his blood had calmed enough for him to be able to think.

“A fuckin’ nightmare,” He muttered to himself, running his fingers through his bangs and grimacing when he felt how sweaty they were. In fact, the rest of him was damp from sweat, his fur slick and his shirt sticking to his frame. He stripped and went to the bathroom. “A cold shower should help, right Nuggs?”

Fat Nuggets, who was still in the bedroom, just chuffed in what Angel decided was agreement. He was glad to have Nugs around, because otherwise he would just be talking to himself and what sane demon talked to themselves?

The cold water did wonders, both refreshing his body and shaking the last dredges of the nightmare from his mind.

By the time he was dressed and heading down to the dining room, he had pushed the bad dream away, not allowing himself to think about it for a single moment more.

* * *

  
His weekend off went by too quickly, and before he knew it he was back at the studio.

Days blended together, and Angel was having trouble determining what he was doing at any given time. He would go to the studio and not understand why the sets were different. Wasn’t he supposed to be doing a themed scene that day? He did it already? When?

He started measuring time through events.

Wake up. No breakfast. Studio. Work. No lunch. Hotel. Dinner. Sleep. Nightmare. Repeat.

The nightmares were the only part that Angel actually remembered vividly. Ask him what he was doing the day before and you’d get a blank stare, but his nightmares played with striking detail behind closed eyes all hours of the day, waking or sleeping.

_He ducked, trying to avoid the plate shards as it exploded against the wall just inches from his head. Molly had been lucky enough to slip out of the dining room before their Pops went on his rampage, but Anthony wasn’t as lucky. The second the man saw him, all of his rage was targeted on his son._

_“Fuckin gunsel,” His father spat, the vein on his neck sticking out dangerously. Fifteen year old Anthony thought to himself how easy it would be to take one of the knives from the dinner table and slice that vein. It would be self defense, right? “Shoulda beat ya more as a kid. Maybe ya wouldn’t be such a pansy ass QUEER-”_

_He would save his Ma and sis from the horrible man that was ruining their lives. He glanced over, eyeing the steak knife. All he had to do was reach out - it was close enough that he could close shaking fingers around it easily._

_He blinked, and the knife was gone. He spun around when he heard a wet gurgling sound. To his horror, his father was sinking to his knees, the knife handle sticking out of his neck as blood stained his shirt. His Ma was screaming, and Molly was screaming, and his Pa was wheezing, his eyes rolling back in his head as he collapsed completely._

_“Anthony...” His mother whispered, horrified. Anthony began to tremble. This wasn’t right... His Pa died from a turf war gone wrong. He never- He wouldn’t actually kill his- it wasn’t his fault- “Oh Anthony baby... what have you done?”_

“Angel Cakes, you’re doing so good for Daddy,” Val’s hands felt like fire, melting the fur where it touched. “Maybe this stupid hotel was a good thing for me. Let that fuckin princess deal with you and by the time I get you back you’re so nice and docile.” A hand running through his bangs, a kiss on the mouth.

_He stared down, frozen where he stood. He stared down, at the man he just shot. The man’s eyes looked up towards the sky, open and unseeing. Anthony could feel the blood seeping from the bullet hole in the man’s forehead soaking into his shoes, staining his socks._

_“Please! Please, I’m sorry! I’ll pay you back, I promise!” The man’s voice echoed through the room. Anthony was alone with the body, his father nowhere to be seen in the large, empty warehouse. Every direction that he looked, all Anthony could see was darkness stretching into oblivion. He looked down again, but the body was gone. He was alone._

_“Why did you kill me? I had children at home! They’re your age, and now they don’t have a father. My poor wife won’t be able to support them! They’re all going to die because of you!”_

_“No... NO!” Anthony covered his ears with his hands, only to find he no longer had ears. His shadow stood in front of him, showing a gruesome monster with a tall, thin body and six arms, but the worst part was the face. The shadow had glowing red eyes, and when it grinned, the red glow formed the shape of wicked fangs. Anthony tried to run, but the shadow followed him. No matter how far he went, he never seemed to put any distance between himself and the shadow creature._

_It swelled up and swallowed Anthony whole, consuming the child as he cried._

“Angel, please just talk to me! I just want to help... I got you the journal like I said I would. Maybe you could write down what you can’t- can’t talk to me about... I can’t stand to see you like this anymore... just a few words, please? I need... I need to make sure you’re alright. Angel? Why are you scratching your arm like that? Vaggie! Husk! Come help me get Angel to his room. Hopefully all he needs is some sleep...” Gentle hands on him. Flinching away. Being moved. Warm blankets creating a comforting weight on his chest.

_"You truly are pathetic,” static laughter filled Angel’s head. “It’s so entertaining to see you fail though! I suppose I should thank you for allowing me to spectate your descent into madness, my dear. It was simply delectable.”_

_Angel tried to reach up to Alastor, his hand resembling a crooked branch than a hand, with fingers bent in all directions and covered in a dark, thick liquid._

_“Please do not touch me,” Alastor’s grin sharpened, his eyes turning into dials. He stabbed the end of his cane into Angel’s hand, pinning it to the ground. Angel felt himself cry out, but there was no sound. “Filthy creature... I’ll never understand why in Hell’s name you were the one everyone was obsessed with.”_

_“Al...” He gargled, tears streaming down his face. Alastor’s grin shot downward in the blink of an eye, leaving the demon scowling down at the spider._

_“I apologize,” The scowl was quickly replaced with a friendly smile. Angel’s heart pounded against his ribs - maybe there was hope! Maybe Alastor would help him- “I’m afraid I don’t know who you are! Ah haha silly creature, I would never associate with someone of your level. I have standards, and they don’t include pathetic whores.”_   
_Alastor’s eyes glowed red and the background faded to black. The last thing Angel saw before everything went dark was Alastor’s dial eyes and sharp grin._

“My dear, you are worrying Charlotte and the others. If there is anything I- If there’s anything we can do to ease your stress, let us know. Seeing you so subdued... there’s no joy in your silence, mon cher... At least acknowledge that you can hear me. Angel?” A hesitant touch to his cheek. His bangs being brushed away. Soft music filling the air.

* * *

Angel looked at himself in the mirror. He wondered when exactly his eyes became so dead, or when his fur lost its shine. He wondered when he gave up. Fat Nuggets was staying with Niffty now. Angel wasn’t mentally there enough to care for the pig properly. His room felt much too large now that it was just him there.

He dreaded going to sleep. He was so tired that he thought he might throw up, but he couldn’t sleep. He knew the second he closed his eyes, there would be another nightmare - another memory skewed to the point where he could barely tell where the memory ended and the nightmare began. His hands shook so he gripped the edge of the sink harder. He didn’t even know what day it was. The world was melting around him and he was losing what little control he had.

Between the constant up and down of Valentino’s drugged smoke, the nightmares making it impossible to feel rested, and the emotional strain his work was starting to have on him, Angel was finding it impossible to breathe. He was suffocating, and there was nothing he could do to make the pressure in his chest lighten-

His head shot up. He stared at his mismatched eyes, the spark returning to them as he argued with himself. He shouldn’t... it was dangerous... but it would help, and he couldn't actually die from it. No one would know. His fur would cover it. His face broke into a relieved grin, his eyebrows lifting as he laughed a sob.

Silently, he summoned a knife. He didn’t make a single sound as the tension drained from his body, drop by bloody drop.

By the time he was bandaged, there was no fresh crimson. He left the bathroom as it was, too tired to clean it. He would handle it in the morning.

He fell into his bed, his head swimming in a way that made a giggle tumble from his mouth, and for the first time in what felt like ages, it wasn’t forced.

Sleep sunk its claws into Angel, making him succumb to the darkness.

That night, Angel didn’t dream.

“Good morning Angel!” Charlie said, shock coloring her words as she watched the spider walk into the dining room. He was wearing a long sleeved shirt that was slightly tucked into a pair of comfortable looking sleep shorts, as if he had spent the night with just the shirt on and shoved the pants on just before leaving his room.

“Mornin’ Toots,” he shot the woman a grin. “What’s fa breakfast? I’m starved.”

“Oh, uh,” Charlie seemed to have been struck speechless. “Th-the normal stuff...”

“Poifect,” Angel laughed, running a hand through his bangs. “I’ll help myself then.”

Charlie watched him saunter to the kitchen, torn on how she felt about it. On one hand, she was beyond thrilled to see Angel up and about and actually conscious of what he was doing. For the last three weeks, he had been listless, like a puppet being dragged around by an unseen force - barely eating, barely speaking, barely sleeping. On the other hand, it was such a change from the day before that she was worried. What happened since last night that managed to turn Angel around so quickly?

Angel hummed a tune as he filled his plate. He was starving, and he was planning on spending his day off properly. He had texted Val, asking what his schedule was for the day and was pleased to learn he had nothing planned for the next two days.

His arm burned slightly, the bandages hidden under his sweater sleeve pressing down on the almost healed cuts. They were shallow - or rather, shallower than some of the wounds he stumbled back to the hotel with - and had stopped bleeding before he even went to sleep. They wouldn’t need the bandages by the time he went upstairs to get changed.

Waking up feeling rested and refreshed for the first time in weeks was more than enough to put Angel in a good mood, but Val’s message only made it better. He had slept without a single interruption - no nightmares, no waking up to turn over. He fell asleep,curled slightly around the pillow he was cuddling, and he woke up in the exact same position.

By the time he opened his eyes again, Angel felt like he had finally managed to charge his internal battery. He stretched, a grin breaking across his face when it didn’t take every ounce of strength he had to move.

He knew it was going to be a good day, and he knew how to make sure he kept having good days. He just needed to keep his little secret to himself. If anyone - especially Charlie and even Val - found out, they would make him stop, either for his own safety or to keep the goods from being too fucked up. If they took it away, he wouldn’t be able to sleep, and then the world would become a blur again.

Angel hummed as he all but inhaled his breakfast, waving at Husk and Alastor as they entered the kitchen themselves. Both demons stared at him as if he had grown a second head to go with his extra arms, which caused Angel to laugh.

He was determined to take back control of his life, no matter the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Now it's sad! Honestly this was supposed to be a oneshot, and the plot map I wrote out was mostly this but I added a crap ton more scenes and background and detailing that ended up making this a chapter fic lmao
> 
> I hope this isn't too out of character for the story. The main idea for this was for Angel to feel out of control and to try to get it back on his own. I really liked how the chunk where his world was blending together came out! I was torn between regular dialogue and flashes, and I think I got it to have that blending together feeling.
> 
> Next chapter is going to have Angel self destructing and the others starting to notice something wrong.
> 
> Also, this is the bracelet that Val gave Angel! I literally just googled bangle bracelet and set the price to $700+ and this gorgeous piece popped up!
> 
> https://www.1stdibs.com/jewelry/bracelets/bangles/masriera-18kt-gold-plique-jour-enamel-bangle-bracelet-94ct-diamonds/id-j_5907362/


	6. Nightmares

Angel closed his journal, a deep scowl marring his face. He hated to admit it, but Charlie had been right - writing down the shit that was bombarding his head actually did help and it drove him mad that he was actually doing something that was supposed to be therapy. He was a demon for Hell’s sake!

But regardless of who he was, or why he was in Hell, the journal helped. It forced him to form full thoughts, at least enough to write them out. He could see his own words staring back at him in familiar, curling handwriting that was somehow so detached from himself that he barely recognized it. He wrote about everything in there - the injuries sustained while working, the injuries he gave himself, the rare nightmare that snuck through ever since he started being able to sleep properly again, the unnamed emotions that drowned him in confusion whenever he had to deal with Val one on one or when Alastor tried to speak with him - all the things that got caught in his throat and made him want to throw up, even if there wasn’t anything physically in his body to reject. His journal was a form of mental bile, collecting his bitterest, most painful thoughts in one place.

Angel looked at his arm apathetically. To the naked eye, there was nothing amiss - his fur lay perfectly along his skin, the faint pink undertone shining in the light of his room.

If he were to run his fingers through it, he wouldn't even feel raised lines. All his scars were flush to his body, nothing more than a faint line that all but blended in with the rest of his skin. Only he knew the sins he was collecting, and he was going to keep it that way.

He tucked the journal into his vanity, right next to the velvet boxes that were starting to turn grey from the dust settling on them. Not even Niffty knew to open the drawer to clean it out, which was why it was the perfect place to hide things.

The day before, he had promised Al that he would teach the deer demon how to cook some of Angel’s favorite dishes from his life. Alastor had shown him some of his own childhood meals, and Angel had wanted to return the favor. His relationship with the radio demon was interesting to say the least.

When Alastor first came to the hotel, Angel had been obnoxious to him. He had reveled in the sight of the fearsome Radio Demon squirming under his heated looks and lewd jokes, but as time progressed he found himself genuinely enjoying the other’s company. - he found that he and Alastor had much more in common than anyone would have expected, and it was... nice.

Nice to spend time with someone who didn’t look at him like a piece of meat. Nice to talk to someone who didn’t try to turn a conversation about the Great Depression into bedroom talk the second they get the chance. Nice to be able to just sit on the same couch as someone, Angel on his phone and Al reading a book, without needing to speak to fill the silence and being allowed to just exist in the same space.

He forced himself to put on something appropriate for the kitchen. His bed called to him, begging him to stay in his room and sleep, but he made a promise. Besides, he wanted to cook with Alastor. Maybe Husk would join them and sit at the island to be their taste tester as they worked, joining in the conversation here and there.

A smile worked its way onto his face. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad time after all.

* * *

“Go on baby,” Angel’s grin widened. “You can be a little rougha than that.”

The demon he was fucking paused, their eyes flicking over to Val, who was sitting just behind the camera. Val didn’t seem to have noticed his star’s request, and it was clear the demon desperately wanted to do as he was told.

“It’s aight,” Angel cooed, looking up at them with half lidded eyes. He could physically feel the demon in him grow harder. “Make me bleed, stud. I wanna feel ya claws.”

The demon shuddered, his hips canting even faster. Angel could feel how his hips and spine seemed to rattle with the force of it. Their talons dug into Angel’s sides and he couldn’t help but cry out, his grin widening as the pain shot through his body. The familiar feeling of his skin splitting and red heat clotting in his fur sent a shiver through his blood.

Valentino’s grin widened, the sweet scent of blood filling the studio as Angel’s cries got louder and louder. He wasn’t going to stop the scene if his precious star was enjoying himself so greatly.

Angel road on the adrenaline of the pain, his eyes rolling back as his climax crashed through him like a tidal wave. He lay on the bed, panting and chuckling slightly as his already healing wounds itched as the blood on his fur began to dry.

“Go clean yourself up Angel Cakes. You made a mess of yourself,” Val called over to him, not bothering to stand. “You have one hour. Understand Baby?”

“Yes Val~” Angel smirked as he sauntered from the set. He could still feel his blood pounding through his veins as he went back to his dressing room.He had always been a fan of pain during sex, but now it added a whole new layer to it.

If the rest of the clients for the day ended up getting a little too rough, Angel wasn’t going to be the one to correct them. Instead, all he did was take extra care to clean the blood and bandage the wounds before going to the limo that was waiting outside the studio to take him back to the hotel.

The entire ride he felt high as a kite, and he didn’t even have any drugs - other than Val’s smoke of course, but he was doing his best to avoid that. After the first time he gave in and let himself breathe it in, all he could think of was Charlie’s disappointed face and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

He was looking forward to passing out for a couple of hours, hoping the pain from work would keep the nightmares away.

Unfortunately, luck was almost never on his side.

_“_ _Simply divine, my dear!” A familiar static voice called out. Angel couldn’t see anything, but he could feel. Someone was fucking into him - hard - but he couldn’t move. “I must say, I was not expecting this to be quite so amusing, yet once more you’ve proven me wrong!”_

_Angel wanted to whimper, but he couldn’t make a single sound. There was a grunt above him and his blood went cold. He would recognize that voice anywhere._

_“Your faces are truly delectable, mon cher,” Alastor cooed as he held Angel down, not allowing the spider and room to move. “The agony, the fear... it’s delicious.”_

_He felt claws pierce into his flesh, digging so deep into his side that he was afraid they would hit organs. He tried to struggle, but it was if he was being held down entirely, not a single limb free enough to wiggle._

_“Now, none of that struggling! It’s rude to interrupt a performance halfway through after all.” Alastor’s laugh track played as Angel silently cried. Pain spiked through his side and his spine as the laughter only got louder and louder, echoing in his head like a tinny choir, mocking his suffering. Faded radio music joined the laugh track, layering the sounds so Angel couldn’t think at all._

_“Smile, my love,” Alastor grinned, his teeth glowing faintly in the darkness. His shone down on Angel, illuminating the shadow limbs holding him in place. He felt something sharp at the corner of his mouth dragging up before repeating the same action on the other side. “After all, you’re never fully dressed without one!”_

_The radio laughter mocked Angel as his cut mouth formed a gruesome grin, blood trickling down his chin as the laughing grew louder._

Angel shot up in his bed, a scream building in his throat. He scrambled to the bathroom, throwing up violently into the toilet. A part of him was grateful he never put the seat down because otherwise his bile would have ended up all over the floor. He retched until he pulled a muscle in his side, tears mixing with the bitter concoction.

“Why him?” he sobbed, covering his face with his hands and slumping onto the ground, his long limbs curling into a small ball on the plush bathroom rugs he had picked out when he and Charlie had gone shopping together.

He could still feel the phantom shadows gripping his wrists and legs, pinning him in place. He could still feel the bruising grip on his hips and the ripping of his insides as something far too large was shoved inside of him.

Fat Nuggets waddled over to their dad, snuffling in concern. They nuzzled Angel’s damp cheek but the spider didn’t react at all. Fat Nuggets curled up against Angel’s side, the sound of his sobbing lulling the pig back to sleep.

  
Angel woke up still on the floor of the bathroom. His body ached from being curled in on itself for so long, which only made his headache even more painful. His mouth was dry and tasted like shit, and he could barely focus his eyes.

“Nuggs?” He whispered as his son waddled over to him. They licked his chin, as if to wish Angel a good morning. Angel smiled softly and brought the pig close to his chest, holding them tightly until sitting on the bathroom floor was too painful on his tailbone.

He slowly made his way back into his room, his feet barely lifting as he walked. He reached for the water bottle he tried to keep filled on his bedside table only to find it was empty. He suppressed the urge to throw the bottle against the wall, but did allow himself a very colorful string of expletives.

Catching sight of himself in the mirror, Angel almost didn’t even recognize himself at first glance. The demon staring back at him looked too thin, his eyes too wide and too glassy. The other demon looked scared, and weak, and small.

Angel held his empty bottle close to his chest as if it could comfort him, he turned away from the mirror and slunk out of his room. He didn’t check to see what time it was, but he hoped no one was awake. All he needed to do was fill his water bottle and sneak back upstairs, and he would be safe.

The hallways were empty as he went, his spider paws completely silent against the worn carpeting. The kitchen was also deserted and Angel let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. He didn’t turn the light on, opting to let the light from inside the fridge to illuminate the kitchen enough to fill his water bottle from the stupid filtered pitcher that Vaggie insisted they buy - something about new technology and health or whatever. Angel hadn’t cared because when he was a kid most water was filled with dust or bacteria anyway. Now he was kind of grateful, because he could get cold water whenever he wanted.

He screwed the lid of his bottle back on before slipping the pitcher into the fridge. He bumped the door closed with his hip, only to scream when the lights suddenly flicked on.

“Angel, my dear,” Alastor looked just as shocked as Angel felt, his smile looking more strained than creepy. “I was not anticipating such a wake-up call this fine morning.”

“It ain’t my fault you scared th’ shit outta me,” Angel snapped, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. “The’ fuck you’d do that for, huh?”

“I always eat my breakfast this early,” Alastor explained calmly. He was already dressed for the day, looking impeccable as always. He didn’t seem put off by Angel’s clothing choice - or rather, lack of clothing, seeing how he was wearing nothing more than an oversized t-shirt that only just covered his ass. “I rarely require much rest, so getting an early start to my day is much more productive.”

“Oh...” Angel trailed off, feeling an uneasy lump forming in his stomach.

“You, however, are not normally up this early,” Alastor commented, raising a single eyebrow. “Is everything alright?”

“Peachy keen,” He let out a weak chuckle, which only served to make the Radio Demon’s smile drop even more. “Just, uh... n-nightmare.”

“Ah, I understand,” Alastor nodded, stepping forward. “Truly the bane of a sinner’s existence. Is it not enough for us to live in a nightmare? Must we suffer while sleeping as well?”

“Y-yeah...” He tried to shuffle away, keeping as much space between himself and the deer as possible. “I’ll just be going- _**NO**_!”

He shouted, covering his face with his hands. Alastor’s hand, which had been raised to reach for the fridge’s handle, had frozen. Alastor stared at Angel, his eyes wide and his mouth open in shock, no smile to be seen.

All he could see was dream Alastor’s glowing grin as he was held down. All he felt was hands on his wrists. His chest tightened as his breathing picked up, the panic making it impossible to have a single coherent thought.

Angel whimpered, tugging at his hair roughly. The sudden rush of pain was enough to snap him out of his panic. He took one look at Alastor’s expression before bolting from the kitchen, his water bottle forgotten on the counter.

Alastor stared after Angel, not understanding what just happened. There was a disgusting feeling building in the pit of his bottomless stomach. Normally, a demon cowering in fear before him made Alastor giddy, because it meant he was at the end of his hunt - that he was about to reap the rewards of his efforts. It meant he was about to engage in a thrilling broadcast where he could make his prey sing to the tune Alastor played with knives against skin.

Normally, he would be thrilled, but seeing the look of undiluted fear that made Angel’s face crumple... it made Alastor feel dirty.

Like it was his fault somehow.

Looking back at the fridge, Alastor decided he wasn’t all that hungry anymore.

* * *

Angel stood from his bath, the cooling water dripping from his fur. After his encounter with Alastor earlier that morning, he wouldn’t have been able to fall back asleep even if he wanted to, so instead he allowed himself a scalding hot bath to calm himself.

He watched the water swirl down the drain, the red not even leaving behind a hint of what he had just done. Turning on the shower, he washed away any memories of the blood that had soaked into his fur. Once the water ran clear, he turned the shower off and stumbled out, too light headed to hold his balance.

Angel walked slowly to his vanity, allowing himself to lean on the walls to keep his legs from giving out. Sitting down heavily, he took his hair dryer and turned it on, letting his eyes fall shut at the feeling of the hot air fluffing his fur. It was soothing, how methodical the motions were. By the time he was completely dried, Angel felt more like himself.

He put on his usual pajamas - his soft shorts and an oversized sweater. Normally he would wear a t-shirt, but with the bandages wrapped around three of his arms, he knew it would be too obvious. He didn’t want anyone to worry because it would make him feel like crap and he already felt wrong enough as it was.

He still felt... off - like his skin was too small for his body or like he was about to vibrate out of his fur - but compared to that morning he felt a thousand times better. He knew he would have to go downstairs soon, to eat and to retrieve his forgotten water bottle, but to push back the inevitable, he pulled his journal out.

It took maybe ten minutes to recap everything that had happened, from the nightmare to the panic he felt seeing Alastor in the kitchen, thinking the Radio Demon was going to pick up where he dream left off. He was fully aware that Alastor would never do something like that - if not for the fact that they were somewhat friends, but because Alastor had no inclination towards sex and therefore would not find much entertainment in forcing Angel into it - but the instinctive part of his brain didn’t seem to understand that.

Shooting Fat Nuggets - still curled up in his little nest and faintly snoring - a fond look, he steeled his nerves to trek downstairs.

The sound of the others reached him before the smells did, but the second the scents of breakfast hit him Angel felt his stomach roll again. He was glad there was nothing left in him to throw up because it would have made his shitty morning even worse.

“Angel...” Alastor was the first to spot him. Angel jerked a little, having been expecting to hear Charlie’s excited voice.

“H-hey there Smiles,” Angel chuckled, staring at his feet. No one missed how he stuttered. “Looks like I’m th’ last one ‘ere.”

“That’s alright Angel,” Charlie chimed in, offering the spider demon a smile. “We haven’t started eating yet, and there’s still plenty in the kitchen.”

“Thanks Toots, I’ll go grab some grub.” He smirked, but it felt like a cheap imitation of his usual cocky grins.

He could tell Charlie wanted to say something else, but he turned and all but ran from the room before she had the chance. He let out a shuddering breath as soon as he was alone, his stomach growling painfully as he stared at the plates of food already set out.

“Mon ange, you seem skittish this morning.” Alastor said, appearing behind Angel without a sound. Angel jumped a foot in the air, a scream stuck in his throat.

“Fuckin’ shittin’ dicks!” He spat without thinking, hopping away from Alastor on instinct alone. “Shit- what th’ fuck Smiles? Eva heard a knockin?”

“I wasn’t aware I should knock while entering the kitchen,” He said, his layered voice sounding deadpan. He looked at Angel from head to toe, his classic grin tightening. Angel saw the change in the other’s expression and fought the urge to bolt. He had to remind himself that Alastor would never do that to him - that his nightmare had been lying and that he was safe with his friend. “That aside, you seemed unsettled this morning. While I am pleased to see that you are faring better now, it was... disturbing to see you in such a state.”

“It ain’t no big deal,” Angel turned his back to Alastor, piling food onto his plate. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the other demon. “Just a little spooked is all.”

“Is there anything we can do to ease your stress?” Alastor seemed almost uncomfortable asking, as if he wasn’t sure if he would rather have Angel be honest or have him lie.

“Seriously Al, don’t worry,” He shot the Radio Demon a smile. Dream Alastor’s voice whispered about wearing a smile in the back of his head. He bit back a scowl. “I’m all good, kay?”

“If you insist...” Alastor trailed off, the static in his voice quieter than usual. Angel could hear the other demon’s real voice through the layer of radio feedback, and wondered why Al only ever used his broadcasting voice - his real voice was so soothing. There was a faint accent, but he couldn’t place it.

They went back to the dining room and slid into their respective chairs. Angel picked at his breakfast, eating just enough so the others wouldn’t worry but not too much that he got sick again. He was never one to throw up easily, and once in a day was enough for him.

“You’re suspiciously quiet Angel.” Vaggie said suddenly, making Angel jump a little. Her eyebrows were raised, as if challenging the other demon to argue with her. The old Angel might have done just that, calling her out for accusing him of some shit, but the current Angel felt very different.

‘Of course she doesn’t trust you. Why would anyone trust a whore? They have every reason to hate you. They’re lying when they say they don’t. Now look, everyone’s staring because you’re too pathetic. They’re probably thinking about what a waste of their time you are, always eating their food and staying in their hotel without doing anything in return you ungrateful, worthless sack of shit-’

“Vaggie, give him a break,” Charlie said, putting a hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder. She looked at Angel, who was still staring at his plate, his eyes vacant and glassy as he blinked slowly. “He needs support now, not accusations-”

“What if he’s using again?” Vaggie hissed, quietly enough that no one else heard her - other than Angel, that was. His hearing was better than most people gave him credit for. After all, he didn’t have ears, so how could he hear well? Joke was on them, though, because spiders had surprisingly good hearing.

“You can’t make that kind of assumption, especially everything he’s been through recently.” Charlie argued in Angel’s defense.

“I know you care hun, but if he’s relapsed, we have to do something. We can’t let him set himself back again.”

“I’ll talk to him after breakfast,” Charlie said, her face softening. “I’m sure all he needs is- is to know someone cares...”

“You sure you’re alright kid?” Husk asked, eyeing Angel and ignoring the hushed conversation coming from the two women at the other end of the table. Angel blinked, looking away from his plate that he hadn’t touched.

“Mm, just had a... rough night.” He winced, his voice cracking a little bit.

“You should be used to those by now, right? Isn't it your job?” Niffty asked, complete honesty written on her face. Angel’s mind went blank at the realization. She wasn’t making fun of him, or trying to get a rise out of him. Her genuine impression of Angel was that he-

He stood abruptly, his chair tipping back and clattering to the floor. Everyone stared as his bottom hands slammed onto the table and his top pair covered his face. He let out a low chuckle, his entire body feeling like it was covered in ants - crawling and biting and burrowing into his skin with no way of shaking them off.

“A-Angel?” Charlie called out, never having heard such a hopeless laugh from the other demon.

“Why did I even botha...” He muttered to himself. His top pair of hands began pulling at his bangs as tears formed in wide eyes. “No matta what I do... No matta what I do I’ll always be a FUCKIN WHORE!” He screamed, ripping his fur violently. “That’s all I eva be good for! Just a worthless slut, ain’t I? Ain’t nothin- Ain’t nothin’ I can do ta change that...”

Someone took a step towards him, causing Angel to stumble away. His back hit the wall of the dining room and he found himself sliding down, his legs unable to hold himself up anymore. People were talking, but all Angel could focus on was how his head felt like it was filled with Alastor’s static, making it impossible to form a coherent thought. His breathing began to pick up, panic mounting as he tried and failed to gather his wits.

As a last ditch effort, he let his claws dig into the tender skin of his arms, cutting through the bandaging as if it were toilet paper and reopening the wounds that had just managed to close from his bath that morning.

Pain shot up his arms, but the crushing feeling didn’t subside. The static continued to scream in his head, pushing aside everything other than the fire that was burning away at his arms. He didn’t know if he was crying - he couldn’t hear himself speaking over the static that grew louder and louder.

All at once, the things he had been trying to repress came rushing out. All the things his clients had said to him that made him feel disgusting. All the things the others from the hotel had said to him, before they had gotten close. All the things his father said to him, to let his son know how disappointed he was. All the things that happened in his nightmares. All the phantom touches and dream blood that stained his fur. It all hit him, the screams and abuse hurting far worse than any punch could have.

Angel knew he needed to get his shit together. He felt so weak and exposed like this - he couldn’t remember a single time, both alive and in Hell, where he freaked out so frequently. His father would have beaten the shit out of him for being like this. He might have even sent his son to a hospital to have electricity shot into his brain, just like the man always threatened. He didn’t want to be having a panic attack, but nothing he did seemed to make the crashing waves of fear calm. He tried his breathing exercises, but those only served to make him hyperventilate even more.

“Mon ange, look at me,” Alastor’s voice broke through the chaos in Angel’s head. He felt a gentle hand on his chin, lifting his head up until Angel was looking directly into Al’s eyes. He felt as though the air had been punched out of him, but it seemed that was all his lungs needed - a reset in order to work properly again. “Very good, my dear. You are doing well. Breath for me, alright?”

“A-Al?” Angel whispered, his arms curling close to his chest. He could feel heat soaking into his shirt. His stomach abruptly sunk as the metallic scent of blood filled his nose.

They knew. They had to know after that tantrum he just had. They knew, and they were going to hate him. They were going to hate him because he was awful. He was awful because he hurt himself. He hurt himself because-

“We do not hate you,” Alastor said, his radio feedback all but gone. Angel forced himself to focus on the music playing oh so faintly behind the deer’s words. “You are not awful for feeling this way, mon cher. You are hurting. That is not your fault.”

“I’m sorry...” he covered his face in shame. Another hand - Charlie’s by the feel of it - touched his shoulder but until with Alastor’s touch, Angel flinched away.

“There’s nothin to apologize for.” Husk said gruffly, somewhere off to Angel’s left.

“Do you wish to go back to your room?” Alastor asked gently, as if afraid of scaring an injured animal. In a way, that’s exactly what Angel was.

“Yeah...” If he had a dollar for every time he ended up back in his bed because he wasn’t strong enough to handle his own bullshit, he would be able to buy his way through redemption.

“Up we go!” Alastor said, his shadow carefully helping Angel to his feet. Angel adjusted to leaning on something shorter than him quickly. The three - Angel, Alastor, and Alastor’s shadow - made their way out of the dining room and back up towards the grand staircase.

“I’m real sorry Smiles,” Angel said in a small voice. Now that the panic had subsided, all he could feel was suffocating guilt and shame. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me recently... I feel like a fuckin’ idiot always makin’ a scene like this...”

“Angel, dear, I do not believe any of this is your fault,” Alastor walked a step ahead of them, glancing back from the corner of his eye. “The mind is a dangerous place. It’s almost too easy to fall into its traps.”

“I didn’t want anyone findin’ out like this,” Angel sighed. He knew he was going to be in for one hell of a talking to once things were calmer and he instantly dreaded it.

“Actually, Idda preferred if no one eva found out, but guess that’s off th’ table now.”

Alastor didn’t respond, but Angel heard the faint humming that always followed the other demon spike slightly, as if Alastor had quickly bit back a retort.

They walked in silence until they reached Angel’s room. Alastor opened the door, letting his shadow and Angel enter before he did, closing the door firmly behind him. By this point, he was more than familiar with Angel’s room, the overload of pinks and pastels no longer causing an ache to form behind his eyes. His shadow helped Angel to his vanity, the spider gratefully collapsing onto the seat and resting his chin on the table. Alastor glanced around, noting that Niffty must have taken the spider’s pet out for a walk, when his eyes paused on something Angel had left on his bed.

“Why don’t you go clean up, my dear,” Alastor said, breaking the silence. “Drying blood truly is a pain to get out of clothing, and I have no doubt it would be equally as irritating on fur.”

“Mm, aright.” Angel didn’t fight it. He was too drained to argue, and as hard as he tried to convince himself Alastor was safe, there was still a part of him that jumped at an excuse to be out of eyesight.

He grabbed some things from his dresser before shuffling into the bathroom. Alastor couldn’t help but note how Angel’s shoulders seemed slumped, as if he were trying to make himself seem smaller despite his stature. As soon as the door closed, Alastor made his way over to Angel’s bed.

While he was one who generally respected the privacy of others as long as they returned the courtesy, he found he was compelled to look at the open pages of the journal that had been left sitting out on the pink comforter.

“Mon dieu...” He breathed, eyes widening when he was able to make sense of the scribbles coating the page.

_I had another nightmare. I thought I was done with all that shit but apparently the fuck not... it was worse than usual too. I know Al would never do something like that to me, but I’m still scared to be around him. I know I wouldn’t be able to get out if he tried to hold me down like in the dream. If he really wanted to, he could do so much more than Val was ever able to. All I could think of was how he could easily just finish what dream-him had started and there’s nothing I could have done to stop him. I can’t stop myself from thinking that maybe that’s all I’m good for - to be fucked and thrown aside. Dream Al didn’t give two shits that he was hurting me. I just have to remind myself that he would never touch me like that. He would never hurt me like that, even if I’m asking for it. Even if I’m a stupid whore..._

The writing devolved into repetitions of a few words, the main ones being ‘slut’, ‘whore’, ‘worthless’, and ‘faggot’ - the latter most one making Alastor wrinkle his nose in distaste. There were others scattered about, but those four were the most prominent.

Alastor heard Angel turn the faucet off. With a snap, he closed the journal and had it tucked slightly under the blanket, so it seemed like Angel had just left it there earlier that day. He felt his smile curl into a grimace as he genuinely began to understand what Angel had written in that journal.

A nightmare about him? About Alastor forcing Angel to...? Alastor wanted to scoff, but found he couldn’t. He couldn’t blame Angel in the slightest for having deep rooted fears like that. After everything he had been through, it was almost to be expected. What he hadn’t expected, however, was to be the other half of those nightmares. He had never given any inclination that he would sleep with the other in such a way - in fact, he had been very clear that he wanted the exact opposite - but maybe because Angel knew Alastor was stronger, his mind made him submit himself?

Alastor’s lip curled into a scowl. Why was it, after almost a century of torturing and killing and getting high off the terrified screams of his victims, that he felt genuinely distressed at the realization that he was the one to cause another such fear?

It was the same feeling he had when Husk fell silent after he made a joke about how much the cat drinks, or the dejected laugh Charlie let out when he commented on the lack of patrons in the hotel, or the small whimper from Vaggie when he mentioned the backlash the princess would receive when her grandiose dream finally crashed and burned.

Never before had he felt guilt when upsetting others, but those in the hotel seemed different. He found himself regretting saying those things, wanting to override his words somehow.

Alastor found it was even worse with Angel. The spider seemed so self assured, but the longer he watched the more he saw that there was more to Hell’s number one porn star than just sex and drugs and fighting.

Angel came out of the bathroom, his fur clean of any blood and looking calmer now that he was wearing something more comfortable. He sat heavily on his bed, wincing when something hard dug into his ass. He grabbed whatever it is, only to feel his stomach drop. His journal... he had left it out when he went down for breakfast.

There was no way Alastor saw it, right? It was tucked under his blanket, and Angel was sure the Radio Demon wouldn’t have noticed it. As Al looked at the collection of photos that Angel had printed out and tacked to his wall, he slipped the journal back into his vanity, where it belonged.

“Are you feeling better, mon cher?” Alastor asked, turning back to Angel.

“Yeah, guess I just needed to chill th’ fuck out a lil,” He chuckled awkwardly. “So, uh, I’m all good now... you don’t gotta stay if you don’t wanna.”

“What do you wish for me to do?” Alastor asked, his question sounding more like a challenge. Angel blinked, not expecting to be given a choice in the decision.

“Uh, it don’t matta to me...” He trailed off, his lower set of arms instinctively wrapping around his waist to comfort him as his upper set propped him up on the bed.

“I asked what you wished, not what you thought I wanted to hear.” Alastor chided, his tone teasing and light. Angel found himself huffing a laugh as he finally looked at the other demon - Alastor looked the same as always, but there seemed to be something different about him too, like he was less of an unreachable monster and more like a... normal person.

“I-” Angel stopped himself. He knew exactly what he wanted, but he also knew Al would never agree to it - though a traitorous part of his mind argued that Alastor had been doing many things that Angel would have assumed were completely off limits recently.

“Yes?”

“Could ya just... stay for a bit?” Angel asked, letting his head drop a little as if expecting to be hit. When no impact came, he continued. “Just for a lil while. I don’t wanna be alone...”

“I can do that,” Alastor’s smile softened. Angel thought he looked almost handsome without the murderous edge to his grin. “Why don’t you lay down, cher?”

Angel nodded, flopping down on his bed and turning so his head was on his pillow. He looked over to see Alastor sitting on the other side of the mattress, his back up against the backboard. Somehow, in the two seconds it took Angel to get situated, Alastor managed to remove his jacket, roll his sleeves up a little and tie his hair back into a small ponytail. Angel couldn’t help but stare as a few hairs escaped Alastor’s tie, framing his face as his ears adjusted.

“Come here,” Alastor gestured for Angel to scoot a little closer. He carefully began carding his fingers through Angel’s bangs, careful not to let his claws catch on the soft fur.

“Is this alright?”

“Mm, feels nice.” Angel hummed, his eyes falling shut. He always craved the gentle intimacy of someone just... playing with his hair, or sitting on a couch together with their legs tangled as they did their own thing, or cooking together and creating inside jokes that only they would understand. He never let himself think too much about these dreams, because he knew he would just be crushed.

Who would want to do that sort of thing with him? He was Angel Dust, porn star and top class prostitute. No one would want the more domestic, intimate, non-sexual aspects of a relationship with him. They all wanted one thing, and they took that one thing no matter what Angel himself wanted.

Did any of it even matter? His father made it quite clear that no one would love someone like him, and his time in Hell did nothing to say anything different. He wondered - not for the first time - if it would hurt to let himself be exterminated. The idea of his soul completely disappearing scared him, of course, but would it really be that bad? After all, if his soul was gone, there would be nothing left of him to suffer the consequences. He would be free, for eternity.

“What’s on your mind, my dear?” Alastor asked, noticing how Angel was staring at the blanket they were on top of with a vacant expression.

“Stuff.” Angel muttered, his words getting lost in the comforter.

“What manner of ‘stuff’ is so important to you?” Alastor chuckled, letting his claws oh so gently scratch the top of Angel’s head. He knew Husk liked it when he did that, and he was silently pleased to see Angel reacted in much the same way. Angel let his eyes close as he stretched his back a little before curling closer into Alastor.

“Just...” He trailed off for a moment. Alastor gave him the time he needed. “I’ve been wonderin’ what happens if you double die... do ya go ta double hell? Is that even a thing? Or does ya soul really just... disappear?”

“Well...” Alastor was shocked. Out of the long list of things he had expected Angel to be thinking about, this wasn’t even written down. “I supposed Lucifer would be the only being in Hell who truly knows the answer to that. Just like in life, with our many misconceptions of Heaven and Hell, there are many beliefs as to what happens to us during exterminations.”

“When I was alive, I neva bought into th’ whole Heaven ‘n Hell thing,” Angel admitted softly, as if telling a dangerous secret. “Ma and Pops were supa religious, and even with th’ family business they still had th’ time to push their beliefs onto us. Pops didn’t even go ta church but still ‘ad the audacity to say I was a sinna for likin dick.” He scoffed, a bitter smile crawling onto his face.

“Religion and hypocrisy often go hand in hand.”

“If that ain’t the truth,” A weak chuckle. “I neva woulda thought Hell would be like this though...”

“Would you have lived differently if you had known?”

“I probably wouldn’t have been so damn scared a everythin’,” He said. Alastor felt his chest tighten. “If I had known this was where I’d end up, regardless of what I did, I wouldn’t’ve tried ta hide as much. What would be th’ point if I was damned anyway, ya know? But Pops seemed ta think as long as I kept it unda wraps, there was a chance my eternal punishment wouldn’t be as awful. Jokes on ‘im. The whole family is stuck down in th’ same Hell. Bet he didn’t think he’d have th’ same eternity as his whore son.”

“I wasn’t aware you had family here,” Alastor said. “I recall you mentioning siblings, but I assumed...”

“That they went to Heaven?” Angel chuckled. “Nah, we all did fucked up shit. The only onna us that mighta hada chance was my Ma and even she has some blood on ‘er hands. Maybe Molls, but she did some fucked up shit ta help me out... guess it’s my fault she’s down ‘ere...”

“Have you any contact with them?” Alastor was fairly on top of things around the hotel, and he would have known if Angel was going out for something other than work, wouldn’t he?

“Nah, no point,” Angel shrugged. “Last they saw a me, I split from a job an was neva heard from again. I... I hope they neva connected that Angel Dust th’ porn sta’ is their baby Tony, ya know? I would hate ta disappoint them again.”

“I do not think they would be disappointed in you, cher,” Alastor found he was being completely genuine. Odd. “You made quite the name for yourself, and no matter the means that is an impressive feat.”

“I guess...” Angel curled in on himself even more. Silence fell on them like a thick blanket, neither feeling the need to break it - that was, until Angel whispered again. “Hey Al?”

“Mm?” He hummed, looking back down at Angel. The spider had his eyes closed, but there was a furrow between his brows.

“Hypothetically...” He started, and Alastor found he wasn’t a fan of his tone. “Where would someone be able ta get a holy blade?”

“And why, in this hypothetical, would one need a holy blade?” Alastor didn’t like where this was going.

“No reason,” Angel buried his face in his pillow more. “Just curious... wouldn’t need a big one eitha...”

“Why don’t you rest now, mon ange.” Alastor definitely did not like where Angel’s question had led his thoughts. Paired with the conversation from earlier, Alastor had a sinking feeling that he knew what Angel was insinuating.

“Will you stay?” Angel’s question was so soft that Alastor almost didn’t hear him.

“If you wish for me to.”

“Mm... can you do th’ radio thing?”

“Of course, sha.” Alastor played his music, the notes only slightly tinny from the radio feedback. He instantly felt Angel relax, the spider’s breathing evening out as he finally drifted off to sleep.

Alastor continued to run his fingers through Angel’s hair, hoping that the contact might be enough to chase away the nightmares, at least for a short while. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but feel the itch to read the rest of Angel’s journal. If there was something in there that might give a hint towards whatever the other was going through, it might be worth it, though it would most definitely end with Angel never speaking to him again.

He sighed. This was why he never got himself involved with others. It got too complicated when he tied himself in with the lives of other people. On his own, he never had to deal with anything but his own entertainment and where his next meal was coming from, which tended to be one in the same. Now, however...

Now he had a conscious, apparently, and it was squirming uncomfortably at how worried he was for Angel. Was this what his mother warned him about, all those years ago?

‘One day, you’ll find someone or something that’ll spark a fire in your chest,’ She had said to him. He was young, no more than nine, and didn’t quite understand why his father hadn’t returned from work one day. ‘When you find that spark, you gotta hold it close and nurture it into a bright flame. You can’t let it go out, you hear me?’

He hadn’t understood at the time, and as he aged he understood it even less. He thought he felt that spark, when he was hunting or tasting the screams of his victims, but that was nothing compared to what this hotel did to him.

“I’m going soft...” He said to his shadow, who mimicked guffawing, its hands on its stomach as it through its head back in silent laughter. Alastor glared at it, but the shadow didn’t seem to care one bit. He dropped his glare for another sigh.

He would need to speak to Charlie, and soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by spotify playing Addict on repeat for approximately four hours XD 
> 
> I have mixed feelings about this chapter, if I'm being honest. I try to make the scenes at least 4-5 pages before switching to a new one, but this one has a bunch of shorter scenes which is kinda out of my comfort zone. I have a weirdly ridged formatting for my fics and this doesn't quite fit :')
> 
> That being said, thank you so much for reading up to this point! I don't think I've ever gotten so many long comments on a single fic ever XD This was just supposed to be a vent oneshot but look at us now! Six chapters in and counting!


	7. End of the Line

“Angel Cakes, see me in my office.” Valentino said, his grin growing sharp in a way that told Angel it was not going to be a good meeting. He nodded, taking a robe from one of the studio staff and quickly covered his bare body before following behind his boss.

He didn’t know what was wrong... he had been good. He had been doing his best to make sure Val was happy with his performances. He had been moaning extra loud and letting the clients get rough in the way he knew people liked to see. In fact, he had been acting perfectly as far as he knew.

“Is somethin’ th’ matta?” Angel asked, keeping his head down. Val took a long drag of his cigarette before letting out the breath, filling the office with the red smoke. Angel’s stomach dropped - there was no way for him to avoid it. He didn’t want to lose track of himself, but he didn’t really have much of a choice. The instant he took a breath, he could feel the familiar rush of calm flooding his system. It had been a long time since he gave himself completely over to the crimson smoke.

“Is something the matter?” Val repeated the question mockingly . Angel swallowed thickly. “Can you explain to me why you’ve been lying to your Daddy?”

“Wh-what?” Angel’s eyes opened in horror.

“Did you really think I wouldn't find out? I know what you’ve been doing, and I’m curious about why you thought you had the right?”

“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about?” Angel chuckled, trying to diffuse the situation as much as he could. He knew what it meant to be on the wrong side of Valentino’s anger, and it was gearing up to seem like he was about to be fucked.

“Oh, I see,” Valentino sat back in his seat. “You have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“No, sir.” He was trembling, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the terror mounting through his blood or from the chill in the office that seeped into his exposed fur.

“Interesting...” He tapped his chin with a claw. “Then tell me why I’ve been getting reports that you’re trying to go clean?”

“I d-don’t know sir.” Angel tried to keep his voice even, but deep down he knew he was royally fucking screwed.

“And here I thought my precious Angel was being good for his Daddy,” Val’s tone got sharper. “I thought you were going to play nice and do as I say... I’ve done a lot for you, haven’t I?”

“Of course Daddy.”

“Then why can’t you just DO WHAT I TELL YOU?” Valentino stood, slamming his hands down on his desk, making Angel jump. “All you needed to do was play nice and don’t go behind my back. I knew I made a mistake letting you go to that STUPID hotel! You’re just a slut, Angel. You don’t have a choice!”

“Now look-”

 _ **“What was that?”**_ Val growled, sending fear shooting down Angel’s spine.

“Ya- ya neva directly ordered me ta stay zooted,” Angel tried to defend himself, feeling a boost of defiance. “I haven’t done nothin’ against ya ordas!”

“Is that so?” Val chuckled darkly. “After everything I did for you, and you’re gonna pull this backhanded bullshit? You’re spending too much fuckin time with that damn Radio Bitch! There ain’t no loopholes in your contact, you worthless whore. I own your ass and you can’t work around anything. I OWN YOU.”

“But-”

“And don’t think I don’t know about your little habit,” His eyes narrowed. “I wondered why you were suddenly such a damn masochist, huh bitch? Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how much blood you’ve been losing during filming? How much extra I have to shell out to get the fucking stains outta the sheets?”

“That’s not-”

“Never thought my precious Angel Cakes would turn to hurting himself.” Val reached out, causing Angel to flinch away. He chuckled as he caressed Angel’s cheek. It was almost worse, the gentle touch. Angel wished he would just be hit, because this sort of tenderness only served to make his traitorous heart stutter. He knew Val was dangerous, and that the pimp did not care for Angel in the slightest. Val did not love him, no matter how much Angel wanted to lean into his touch. “You really thought you could get away with damaging my property, huh? Bet you thought you were so clever, finding another high. What, were my gifts not enough for you?”

“V-Val, listen I-”

Val’s hand ghosted down Angel’s cheek before clasping tightly around the spider’s throat. Angel instantly gagged, the force of Val’s hand against his windpipe enough to send fire through his esophagus. He struggled frantically, his robe slipping open as he flailed around. His arms slammed against Val, but it seemed as thought the pimp barely even felt the blows.

“What’s the point of a dog that won’t listen to its master?” Val asked, tilting his head as his eyes narrowed behind heart shaped lenses. “You know what happens to disobedient beasts?”

“Hhng-” Angel tried to speak but Val just tightened his grip.

“They get put down.” He growled and Angel knew he was done for. There was nothing he could do to get out of this. Valentino was far stronger than he was, and he was already starting to feel the effects of the smoke. He went limp in Valentino’s grip, wondering how long it would take to be wiped out - how long Val would play with him before getting bored.

As his vision started to blur, Angel heard something. It sounded like... music. Music, playing in the far distance, with too much feedback to be able to tell what the song itself was. It filled Angel with a sense of calm. He thought of the hotel, and how worried Charlie would be when he never returned. How upset everyone would be at him for ditching - maybe they wouldn’t ever find out Val was the one that killed him. Maybe they’ll just assume he jumped ship and fucked off to a far point of the city.

He wondered if Alastor would be disappointed in him. The Radio Demon seemed so impressed at all the progress Angel had been making, so he would probably think poorly of Angel for giving up.

As his shallow, desperate breaths ghosted over Val’s hand, Angel could feel himself losing consciousness. He realized he would never be able to re-do Al’s makeup. He had promised the other demon that he would give it another shot, but it was too late. Angel was almost gone...

Angel weakly summoned his third set of arms and in a final burst of defiance, he shot Val in the ribs with his tommy gun. He managed five consecutive shots before he was thrown across the room. Val roared in pain, his face twisted in an ugly grimace. His blood blended into the red of his coat, but Angel could see the holes in the fabric. Val charged and Angel emptied the rest of the bullets into his pimp’s chest. Val collapsed, his breathing ragged.

Angel knew he needed to run. He could get Val to pause, but he would never be able to keep the overlord down for long. Valentino would easily be able to erase him but Angel himself was barely strong enough to stumble from the studio, his robes still open and his fur coated in blood that wasn’t his own.

He was too far from the hotel to walk, and he didn’t have anything on him to pay for a cab. Fear started to freeze his veins. His small window of opportunity to escape was getting smaller and smaller with every passing second. He could already hear shouts coming from the building he had just fled from.

In a burst of desperation, he called out.

“ALASTOR!” he cried, not knowing what he was expecting. The red demon had made jokes about having eyes and ears all over Hell, but Angel never really took it seriously. He hoped that the other hadn’t been pulling his leg, because otherwise it was all over for him - for good. The cry left his throat feeling like he had swallowed lava, and when he coughed he tasted something metallic.

The door of the studios burst open, the sounds of screaming bouncing on the sidewalk, forcing Angel to stumble away. He spotted an alley and darted towards it. He ducked behind the overflowing trash cans, pressing his back against the rough bricks. He covered his mouth, desperate to keep his panting as quiet as possible.

“You called, mon cher?” Al’s voice called to him from the mouth of the alley.

“Al...” He croaked from between his fingers.

“Seems like you’ve gotten yourself into quite the sticky situation, my dear,” Alastor stepped into sight and stood over Angel, his smile somehow more bloodthirsty. “Shall we vacate this less than savory location?”

“Please.” Angel sobbed, reaching up towards Al. He felt his breath catch in his throat as one of his nightmares flashed through his mind.

Instead of stabbing his hand into the ground with his microphone, like in his dream, Al reached down to pull Angel to his feet. He didn’t even blink as Angel stumbled into his chest, his legs almost giving out.

He let Alastor pull him through the shadow portal, a wall of inky black tentacles erupted at the mouth of the allet, blocking their escape.

They stumbled into the lobby of the hotel, Alastor barely keeping Angel from collapsing completely. He wasn’t hurt - that much - but the adrenaline that had kept him alive was leaving his body and he felt weak.

“Angel! Al! What happened?” Charlie came rushing over, eyes wide with worry.

“Valentino...” Alastor growled, his face darkening.

“Fortify the hotel!” Vaggie called. Niffty darted through the building, boarding the windows up so quickly it was almost too fast to see.

“Come here kid,” Husk helped Angel stand. “Does Val know which room is yours?”

“Yeah, I think so...” He said, mind in a haze. He sounded like a completely different person. He sounded more like his Father than ever before, his dad’s deep voice ruined by years of smoking and screaming.

“Fuck,” Husk hissed, his ears laying down on his head. He looked around and started pulling Angel over to the bar in the parlor. “Here, sit here okay? You’ll be alright.”

He helped the taller demon sit in the cubby under the bar. Angel hadn’t known there was a hidey-hole there, but it made sense. He used to wonder where Husk would disappear to at random times, but this answered his question. Husk pulled the curtain across the opening, hiding Angel from sight.

Angel curled in on himself, tugging the silky robe up over his shoulders as if it would be enough to make him feel less exposed. He heard an explosion from outside and cringed, trying to block the sounds out with a set of hands.

The sound of feedback broke through his fear, causing Angel to pause. He didn’t think anyone was in the parlor with him - in fact, normally he could tell when Alastor entered a room because his fur would puff up the slightest bit from the static. Despite the white noise in the parlor, there was no static in the air.

“Angel!” It was clearly Alastor’s voice. Angel’s stomach dropped at how pained the cry was. He sat up, bumping his head on the underside of the bar but he didn’t even notice.

“Help me!”

“Al-” Angel rolled out from behind the curtain, his eyes wide as they darted around. The parlor was empty, not a soul in sight.

“Angel! Please!” Another cry. He could tell it was coming from the side of the building, away from the front door. Angel stumbled to his feet and bolted down the hall towards the gardens, where the sound of static screams pushed him faster. He threw the door open, his chest heaving and the robe slipping off one shoulder.

“Alastor-” he called, only to freeze.

Alastor was not, in fact, in the gardens. Instead, Angel came face to face with someone he was - unfortunately - very familiar with.

Vox’s smile didn’t falter as he played another fake clip of Alastor crying out for Angel, and that was all Angel needed to know he had been tricked.

“How interesting,” Vox purred, his face flicking between his normal display and smirking smiley faces. “Seems Val was right. You do have a soft spot for the Radio Bitch.”

“Whadda’ya doin’ here Vox?” Angel tried to keep his voice steady but based on how the overlord’s smile only grew, he knew he failed miserably.

“Helping a friend out, of course,” He stepped forward. Angel stepped back. “When Val calls me for a favor, I can’t say no.”

“You gotta go,” Angel growled, summoning a tommy gun and pointing it at the television demon. He bet he looked pitiful, in his silk robe and a gun held in shaking hands. “I ain’t gonna letcha ruin this hotel.”

“Oh are you?” Vox laughed, his screen glitching before settling back on his sharp grin.

“Last chance, mothafucka.” He put as much force behind it.

“Cute~” Vox cooed. Angel lifted the gun to shoot when he felt something shaking around his ankles.

“What the fuck-” He shouted, the wires wrapping around his wrists and ankles in the blink of an eye. He struggled, the wires trailing up around his waist and wrapping around his throat. Vox pulled his wire taunt, Angel’s limbs spread tight.

“I promised Val that I’d save the final blow for him, but I think I might accidentally have too much fun with you,” He cackled as his wires began to travel up under Angel’s robe, which was almost completely undone, leaving him mostly bare. “He can’t blame me if I go a little too far...”

“Getcha fuckin wires offa me you fuckin’ freak!” Angel shouted, gagging when a wire was shoved into his mouth. He tried to avoid it, but the open end sent a shock of electricity down his throat.

He screamed around the wire, wriggling harder. He refused to let himself be done in by fuckin’ VOX of all people. He didn’t miss the irony in how his affections for Alastor were used against him.

“Your screams are so cute,” Vox giggled, the high pitch tone of a waiting screen breaking the laughter up for a moment. “I’ve tried so many times to get Vally to transfer your contract to me, but he never did.”

He brought out his third pair of hands, hoping to catch Vox by surprise in the same way he had caught Val, but it seemed the TV demon was anticipating it because the second they were out, wires caught them and pulled them taunt as well. Tears streamed from his eyes as the wire in his mouth pushed farther into his mouth, the buzz of the live electricity making his body go numb from the inside out.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what would happen if...” Vox giggled again, a hint of insanity breaking through his voice. He pulled the wire from Angel’s mouth just in time to rip the spider’s arm clean off. The scream Angel let out was nothing short of inhuman, the blood splattering in an arc across the garden as Vox waved it around like a child playing with something he wasn’t supposed to have.

Angel choked on his pained bellows, his sight turning black from the sheer agony that wracked his body. His cries draw Vox’s attention again, his gleeful grin only growing more as he stalked towards the prone figure of the spider.

“Should I make it even?” He asked, his words sounding as though they were coming from channels being clicked through quickly. Angel knew it hapened when Vox got too excited, because he had experienced it before during the times when Val let his friend fuck his star toy to his hearts content.

“N-no...” Angel whimpered, silent tears soaking into his fur. “Please...”

“Hehehe...” Vox’s wires snaked towards Angel again, slithering through the bloodied grass as if they were alive themselves. Angel watched them approach, unable to bring his body to move even an inch.

Just as the wires were about to wrap around him once more, Vox froze. Angel watched the overlord through heavy eyes, his head too light to keep them open much longer. Scenes flashed across Vox’s screen, stopping on the image of a moth pinned to a corkboard in a glass frame. The wires dropped, quickly retreating back into Vox’s back.

“No... NO-” Vox screamed before taking off into a sprint. He vaulted himself over the wall of the garden, leaving Angel all alone in the grass.

Time passed, but he had no idea how much. It was all a haze - between the blood loss and the pain, Angel barely knew where he was. He didn’t even notice people approaching him until there were hands holding him.

“Hang in here kid,” A rough voice said, inches from his head. Something was roughly shoved against where his second left arm had been. Angel whimpered, not having the energy to shout anymore. “We’re here. You’re safe.”

“Husk?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Al...?”

“He’s safe too. The hotel is safe. He took care of Valentino.” Husk answered softly, putting pressure on the missing limb to slow the bleeding. Angel cried out pitifully at the overlord’s name.

There were another set of hands on Angel. He felt himself being pulled into someone’s warmth, the gentle cadence of footsteps lulling him into darkness.

“I’m here cher,” Alastor’s voice had no static. “You’ll heal soon enough, and we can share a drink together once again.”

“...wanna...” Angel whispered.

“What was that?”

“Don’t wanna heal,” Angel sobbed softly. “Make it stop... you’re an overlord... just finish me off... please Al.”

“You are delirious, my love,” Alastor’s voice sounded like it was far away and underwater at the same time. “We’re almost there, mon ange. Just a little farther.”

Angel didn’t hear anything after that. He curled into Alastor’s chest, letting the familiar scent of spices and trees and something more metallic soothed his pain.

* * *

  
He came back to consciousness in stages.

The first was his sense of hearing, able to understand short clips of speech from around him before he fell back to sleep.

The second was his sense of touch, able to feel the softness of the blankets below his body and the throbbing from his side and the pressure of bandages around his torso before he fell back to sleep.

The third was his sense of smell, able to smell the cleanness of the sheets and the tangy scent of the disinfectant before he fell back to sleep.

Finally was his sight, able to crack his eyes open to see the pink canopy above his head.

“Angel...” A soft voice whispered from his right. Angel glanced over and realized he was still asleep - that was the only explanation for why his sister was sitting by his bedside, her hair, normally curled to take up twice the space her body did, was somewhat tamed by a red bandanna. She was looking at him with wide eyes, her lip trembling slightly. He hadn’t spoken to her once since landing in hell, but he had caught glances while running errands. He always hid before she could see him. she didn’t deserve to be burdened with him - after all, he was the reason she was there in the first place.

“Molls?” He croaked, the realization that this was not, in fact, a dream dawning on him.

“Welcome back Tony,” She laughed, tears dripping from bright eyes. “You gave us quite th’ scare.”

“What ‘appened?” He tried to sit up, only to feel a hand on his shoulder. Looking to his left, he saw Alastor sitting in another chair. The deer looked more disheveled than Angel had ever seen him. His hair was pulled back, just like that night oh so long ago, but the hair around his face seemed less on purpose and more because he hadn’t slept. There were dark bags under his eyes, which seemed redder than usual and not in the creepy, glowing way but in a bloodshot way. He was even wearing the same shirt he had been wearing when he rescued Angel from the studio, if the brown bloodstains were anything to go off of.

“You won’t have to worry about Valentino anymore,” Alastor said gravely, no hint of feedback to be heard. The accent Angel had just barely caught was back again. “He won’t be bothering anyone ever again.”

“What... didcha kill ‘im?” Angel asked, a weak smile on his face. Alastor didn’t respond, but Angel caught how the other glanced away. “Oh... ya did kill ‘im.”

“He was on my turf,” He responded, swallowing thickly before continuing. “It was well within my rights as an overlord to defend my territory. He came to my doorstep, looking for a fight. I simply did the right thing and gave one to him.”

“Whadda ‘bout-” He tried to ask about Vox, only for the pain to suddenly spike, causing him to curl in on himself more.

“Are ya tired Tony?” Molly asked, looking like it was driving her crazy not being able to touch her brother.

“Not really,” He answered honestly. “Shit ‘urts like a bitch though.”

“I am not surprised,” Alastor said, standing. He went over to Angel’s vanity and shook some painkillers from an unlabeled bottle. He handed the pills and a water bottle, which had been sitting next to the bottle, to Angel. “You took quite a bit of damage, my dear.”

“Mothafucka ripped ma goddamned arm off...” He growled. Molly helped him sit up so he could take the painkillers, the action of moving and swallowing made white burst behind his eyelids from the sudden pain.

“Husk managed to stop the bleeding,” Alastor filled Angel in. “Thankfully the wound closed enough to prevent any more blood loss, though we have no inkling of an idea when your arm will begin to grow back...”

‘If it grows back at all’ the rest of his sentence hung silently in the air.

“I’ll let Charlie and the others know you’re awake.” Alastor nodded to Angel and Molly before stepping out of the room.

“Ya know, fa such a big, scary demon, that boy a yours is pretty cute,” Molly giggled, her smile becoming more genuine as Angel’s fur puffed up in embarrassment. He almost wished he could blush normally, because looking like a cotton ball wasn’t sexy at all. “He was mutterin’ up a storm about not bein’ able ta do a propa broadcast. Said that asshole Valentino died too soon, and I gotta say I agree wit ‘im.”

“I can’t believe ‘e killed Val...” Angel trailed off, taking a deep breath. It hurt, but in a different way than when he broke his ribs.

“From what I ‘eard, ‘e nearly leveled th’ whole block,” Molly’s voice dropped, as if sharing a secret. Angel felt such a rush of affection for her that he wanted to cry. He didn’t realize quite how much he missed her until that moment. “I gotta say, don’t get much more romantic than that!”

“R-romantic?” Angel choked on the word, coughing violently. Molly helped him sit back up so he could drink his water. Once the fit subsided, he looked at his twin. “Th’ fuck ya mean romantic?”

“Oh Tony... seems seventy years ain’t enough ta teach ya ‘bout this,” She giggled warmly. “That Radio Demon cares ‘boutcha dearly. ‘E wouldn’t let no one inta your room ‘till I got ‘ere, and even then ‘e neva left ya alone with me.”

“How did you find me?” He asked, realizing in that moment that there was no way his sister should know who he was. He took great pains to keep his human name a secret from his industry, so how...?

“Th’ Blondie got in contact with me,” She took his hand, running her thumb along the back of his knuckles. “Imagine my shock when th’ Princess a Hell ‘erself came a-knockin on ma door.”

“How did she know to find you?”

“From what I gathaed, ya Radio amante told ‘er,” She saw how Angel puffed up even more when she called Al his lover. “Guess ‘e used ‘is overlord powas to track me down. Said ya’d want somethin’ familia’ when ya woke up.”

“I’ll hafta thank him then,” Angel smiled at her. “Sorry for not findin’ ya sooner...”

“No ‘pologies between us Tony,” She smiled back, her eyes turning up. “We all got our reasons fa doin’ things.”

“I just... I didn’t wanna disappoint ya again....” Angel looked down at his lap. “Afta I skipped town from that last mission, I figured ya had to cova fa me... I hoped somehow ya made it up ta heaven, but guess I damned ya ta Hell cuz I was selfish.”

“Ya didn’t damn me ta nothin’,” She scoffed. Angel felt like he was home again. “I did my fair share a shit and I ain’t gonna deny it!”

“Just as ‘eadstrong as always.” He chuckled.

“Could say th’ same ta ya,” She stuck her tongue out at him. “But enough ‘bout me. You got ova seventy years ta catch me up on!”

“Whadda wanna know?”

“All of it!” She clapped excitedly. “But start with that deer a yours. I wanna know all th’ details.”

Angel grinned. It reminded him of when they were alive. Molly was the only one who supported him and his newly discovered sexuality. She was the only one who he could confide in, and it meant the world to him that she would gossip about his crushes on men just the same as she would have with crushes on women. Molly never judged him for anything.

He chuckled and started at the beginning, when Charlie’s limo pulled up to him the night he was working the streets.

Alastor stood outside of Angel’s room. He had been hesitant to leave him alone with his sister - even if she was his twin, she was a stranger to Alastor, and he didn’t trust strangers - but he found he was glad he did. Angel sounded better than he had expected, laughing and teasing the other spider. There was still an undercurrent of tense pain, but that was to be expected.

He had eradicated Valentino far too quickly. He should have drawn it out longer, making him suffer for as long as he could. He would have too, if he hadn’t heard a blood curdling scream come from the gardens.

His shadows instantly bore into the moth, his own eyes looking in the direction of the scream. He ordered his favorite shadow to take Valentino’s body to the studio - he would take care of it later, maybe even make Angel a souvenir.

He stepped through a portal, closing it behind him as he entered the garden. The scent of blood was so strong he almost gagged, all leading towards where Husk was leaning over familiar white limbs.

Something caught his eye as he rushed over. Another white arm, separated from its body, laying in a puddle of crimson. His rage spiked, his static taking over all of his thoughts for a moment before he was able to gather his wits.

Hearing Angel asking about him made him come back to reality.

“I’m here cher,” He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs. Angel looked so small, especially with a gap between his first and third sets of arms. Husk’s vest balled up and shoved against the stump that was once a limb. Angel’s fur seemed to get greyer and greyer with every passing second, and Alastor realized he was scared. Genuinely, honestly scared of losing Angel. “You’ll heal soon enough, and we can share a drink together once again.”

Angel muttered something, his words lost in a haze of delirious pain.

“What was that?” Alastor’s voice was somehow oddly calm.

“Don’t wanna heal,” Angel sobbed softly. “Make it stop... you’re an overlord... just finish me off... please Al.”

Alastor felt his blood freeze in his veins. Was Angel... asking him to kill him? Angel, his Angel, who was so confident and loud and sure of himself? His Angel, who was stronger than any other demon in Hell? His Angel, that made his cold heart beat again?

Angel wanted Alastor to kill him?

“You are delirious, my love,” Alastor’s voice shook. He held Angel closer, his panic mounting as he could physically feel the warmth leaving the spider’s body. “We’re almost there, mon ange. Just a little farther.”

He almost screamed when Angel’s eyes rolled back in his head.

As soon as Angel was bandaged and resting, Alastor sought Charlie out. He knew Angel would be in a dangerous position when he finally woke, and he knew the spider would need something important to him to make the transition from sleep to consciousness smoother. He remembered how fond Angel sounded while speaking about his sister, so he used his shadows to find her. It was easy, seeing how she was one of the most distinct demons in this half of Pentagram City. He had all but ordered Charlie to retrieve Molly, then sat at Angel’s bedside.

He was furious, the anger and bloodlust stewing in his bones. He wanted to do nothing more than go to his studio and desecrate Valentino’s body, but he couldn’t leave Angel.

Not until he woke up.

“Molly, my dear,” Alastor said, entering the room once again. “Why don’t you go to the kitchen and get something to eat. I know you’ve been here for a while now.”

“Molls, you haven’t been eatin?” Angel shot his sister a look.

“You know how I get when I’m anxious,” She looked away, pursing her lips almost playfully. “I just... I needed ta make sure ya were aight before I did anythin’ else.”

“Well I’m right as rain now,” He tapped her thigh playfully. “Go eat. I’m sure Niffty would be more than ‘appy ta whip ya up somethin’ good.”

“I’ll be right back,” Molly stood and kissed her brother’s forehead. “You take care a ‘im, understood mista?”

“You have my word.” Alastor gave the woman a small bow as she giggled and slipped from the room, leaving Alastor and Angel alone.

“I’m glad you’re aight Smiles,” Angel sounded tired but his small, lopsided grin seemed genuine. “Thought ya mighta kicked th’ bucket or somethin’.”

“And leave you alone? I would never,” He tried to sound joking, his feedback adding a bit of a laugh track, but by the way Angel’s entire face softened, Alastor knew he had let a little too much emotion into his voice. “I... you are not allowed to do that again.”

“Huh?” Angel tilted his head to the side, confused.

“Scare me,” Alastor dug his claws into his palms. “You are not allowed to scare me like that ever again, understood?”

“How could I scare ya?” Angel asked with a chuckle. “You’re th’ Radio Demon. Nothin’ scares ya.”

“Seeing you bleeding out in the garden scared me,” It also scared him to admit it, but he wasn’t going to add that. “Seeing your fur turn grey scared me. Overlords have the ability to erase a lower demon from existence, and whoever did this to you came... very close.”

“Fuckin’ Vox...” he grumbled, his pulse picking up at the thought.

“Ah, so it was Vox...” Alastor’s shadows grew on the walls, their forms stretching and dancing as his bloodlust spiked.

“Al, no,” Angel put a hand on Alastor’s arm. Alastor seemed to calm a little, his ears relaxing and his eyes going back to normal. He hadn’t even realized his eyes had turned to dials until he felt them change back. “It ain’t worth it.

“Oh, my dear, I believe it would be very much worth it,” Alastor’s static spiked, making the lights of the room flicker. “But not right now, if it would upset you.”

“I don’t want anyone else gettin’ hurt cuz a me,” Angel wrapped his top set of arms around himself. He had no idea how long it would take to grow a new limb, but he could already tell it was going to be a bitch to get used to only having five arms. “I ain’t worth it.”

“Do not sell yourself short, mon cher,” Alastor sat on the edge of Angel’s bed, finding he didn’t mind the closeness between them. “You are a brilliant soul. It would be the greatest sin to lose you so soon.”

“Keep that up and I might start expectin’ a ring,” Angel covered his face, his fur puffing up. He had never been good at accepting genuine praise, no matter how much he craved it. “I’m sorry, that was outta line...”

“No need to apologize,” Alastor smoothed the blanket over Angel’s lap. “I... your advances would not be entirely unwanted, as long as they stayed away from the more detailed aspects of courting.”

“Are ya sayin’ ya like it when I flirt with ya?” Angel asked, his chest filling with warmth.

“I would not be opposed.” It was the closest to a confession he was going to give.

“In that case, I’ll hafta start thinkin’ a new material for ya.” Angel winked playfully. Alastor felt his ears press against his head as the static whined around him.

“I’ll go see if Niffty has anything prepared for you,” Alastor sprung to his feet. “Do excuse me-”

“Wait,” Angel called, causing Alastor to pause. “Come ‘ere for a second?”

Alastor did as he was asked, going back over to Angel’s bedside. He leaned down so their faces were level, only for his brain to completely blank when Angel pressed the softest of kisses to the corner of his mouth. If he couldn’t still feel the warmth against his skin, Alastor might have just assumed he imagined it.

He fled from the room, his face burning and his heart pounding. As he went to the kitchen, he found he didn’t mind the feelings that followed Angel’s kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha throw back to this being a oneshot XD as you can see, the chapters went up AGAIN but I'm fairly certain it's going to stay this time. A rounded ten would be nice, but I'm going to try to keep to the rewritten plot map I typed up.
> 
> We're coming to the end! I never expected it to get to this point, and I'm so glad it did. I'm so glad you're all enjoying it too! I never thought I'd have so much fun writing for a new fandom, but I think I'm going to have trouble going back to finish my other fics because I'll want to do more for HH XD 
> 
> That being said, if you have any questions that need clarifying or commentary about the chapter please let me know! I'd love to talk! Also shameless plug but my twitter is @25boyfriends if anyone likes kpop and MDZS as well!


	8. All That's Good Doesn't Last Long

Angel’s world had gone grey. Despite the bright palette of his surroundings, all he felt was grey - flat. He was healing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His arm had only just begun to regenerate, almost a week after he woke up. He didn’t know what was worse - no arm at all, or the nub that was growing in its place. He had constant visitors, but he found he was too tired to entertain them for long - even Molly and Cherri, who tried to visit every few days.

The only real person that he managed to enjoy the visits of was Alastor, who never tried to push him to speak or to fill the silence - never asked how Angel was feeling, or if he needed anything, or if he was in pain. He just let Angel rest, enjoying each other’s company in a comfortable silence. Occasionally, when Angel felt up to talking, Alastor would indulge him in gossip from around the hotel.

At the moment, however, Angel was alone in his room. Fat Nuggets was spending some time with their Auntie Molls, just until Angel felt a little better. He didn’t want to neglect the poor thing because he wasn’t fit to be a father.

Charlie said his arm should be back - based on how he healed the last time he was gravely injured - within a week or so, but even that seemed too long to Angel. He felt weak - like he truly was good for nothing at all.

“Angel? Are you awake?” Vaggie’s voice came from the other side of his door. Angel blinked, surprised that the woman would come visit him alone. He knew she was alone, because if Charlie had been with her, Vaggie wouldn’t have been the first to knock.

“Uh, yeah,” He called back. “Come in. Door’s unlocked.”

Vaggie let herself in, closing the door behind her carefully. Her arms subconsciously wrapped around her middle as she looked at Angel with a conflicted expression. Angel sat up a little straighter in his bed, the pillows propping him up digging into his sore side slightly.

“Um... hey.” She looked away.

“Hey...” He said back, more than a little confused. “What’s up babe?”

“Oh, uh...” She tapped her fingers along her side for a moment before sighing. “I wanted to talk to you for a bit.”

“Talk? ‘Bout what?”

“I just... ugh! I know we’ve never really seen eye to eye.” She started, scowling slightly.

“To be fair Toots, it would be pretty hard seeing how short you are.” Angel snickered a little, finding he actually had the drive to tease the other demon. Vaggie glared at him, her bow pointing upwards for a moment before she relaxed again. Angel blinked, having expected a verbal lashing. Instead, Vaggie just chuckled.

“Glad to see you’re feeling a little better at least,” She said, smiling at Angel. “I came here because I wanted to say I’m happy for you.”

“For what? Gettin’ ma arm ripped off?” Angel crooked one eyebrow, not exactly amused by the sentiment.

“What? No! Why the fuck would you-” She cut herself off, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment and taking a deep breath. “No, I’m happy that you and that shitlord Radio Demon have each other.”

“Al?” Angel’s heart skipped a traitorous beat.

“I thought Charlie was just being... well... Charlie,” She huffed a laugh. “She’s always looking for the best in people, and when you two started spending more time together, she was convinced you were, you know, together-together.”

“I dunno if ya could call what we ‘ave now that eitha...” Angel’s fur fluffed at the thought.

“Even if you’re not officially together, I can tell how important he is to you, and how important you are to him. I’m glad you found someone to care about you, even if you are a pain in my ass more often than not.”

“You’re startin’ ta go soft Vags.” Angel chuckled, but his eyes burned. He refused to cry.

“And with Valentino gone, you’ll be safer.” She didn’t miss how he flinched.

“Yeah... sometimes I think it’s all a dream,” He looked at his hands. “Like I’ll just... wake up and see a missed call from Val. Didn’t help that Al told me what happened when I was fucked ova with painkillas.”

“When you’re back on your feet, I can recommend some nice places to take him,” Vaggie’s smile softened even more as she watched Angel’s fur bristle, his eyes starting to shine brightly. “I’m sure it'll be quite the shock to him for you to charge on a date.

“I’d... like that,” Angel offered her a smile. “Thanks, Vaggie. Sorry I was sucha dick ta ya before. It wasn’t cool a me.”

“I guess I’m sorry too,” her arms came to rest around her hips again. “I judged you pretty harshly before I even knew anything about you. I was just worried that something would happen to Charlie, so I was always on edge.”

“I getcha,” Angel furrowed his brows a little. “I think I’d be th’ same way ‘bout Al.”

“If he hurts you, let me know,” Vaggie said, her voice dropping. She summoned her holy spear, holding it tightly. “I don’t care what kind of overlord he is. No demon is immune to a holy weapon.”

“I’ll make sure ta keep that in mind,” Angel laughed, the sound bouncing against the walls that had been witness to so much pain. “It’s nice ta have someone watchin’ ya back.”

“I’ll let you rest,” She waved her spear away, her own smile still on her face, small and soft. “If I see the Crimson Fucker I’ll send him your way.”

“Thanks doll.” Angel grinned at the nickname. Vaggie shook her head before leaving the room. Angel looked at the door for a moment before bursting into laughter.

His body shook with the fit, his three arms wrapping around his torso as he wheezed for air. In all his decades in Hell - in all his months at the hotel - this was the last sort of thing he expected from Vaggie of all demons. Beneath her rough exterior, she really was loyal - almost to a fault. Angel’s laughter began to calm as he held a pillow close to his chest. He knew she wouldn’t last even a second against Alastor, but it was the thought that counted, and it was the thought that made Angel want to cry.

What did he do to deserve people like this in his life? Charlie, who never doubted him, and Vaggie, with her loyalty for those she held close. Husk and his rough way of showing affection and Niffty who remembered the small things that made him happy.

Alastor, who fought for him. Who didn’t treat him like a mindless cocksleeve. Who made him feel seen, and heard. Who killed an overlord in his name.

“I must say,” Alastor said as he pushed the door open. Angel jumped a little, not having heard the other’s footsteps as he approached. “I’ve missed your laugh. It truly lights up the room.”

“Al,” Angel sat up, pushing the pillow aside so Alastor would have space to sit on the soft bedding. “Was I that loud?”

“Mm, but I am also more in-TUNE with your voice,” Alastor’s grin widened at the pun, and Angel couldn’t stop another fit of laughter from tumbling from his mouth. He had always found Alastor’s puns to be funny, especially the play on words that left him cackling while the others just groaned. “You were aptly named.”

“Huh?” Angel asked, wiping his cheek. A single tear had fallen from how good it felt to be laughing and smiling again.

“Angel,” Alastor purred, running his claws along the fur of the spider’s cheek. Angel puffed up, his eyes hypnotized by Alastor’s. “It is very fitting. I’ve yet to meet another demon who deserves to be called such.”

“I ain’t...” He trailed off, not sure what his protest was going to be. Alastor chuckled and took his hand back from Angel’s cheek.

“Angelic,” he smirked as Angel bristled more. “And beautiful to boot. What an amazing combination!”

“Al!” Angel snorted as the other demon brought back his high energy radio voice.

“But I did not come here without a reason in mind,” Alastor stood. “If you are feeling up to it, I would like to ask for your company on a short walk. Charlotte cleaned the gardens up, and the tree is bearing flowers.”

“I didn’t think it could do that,” Angel blinked. Charlie really did have more secrets up her sleeves than anyone knew. “But, uh, yeah. A walk sounds good. I’ve been wantin’ to stretch my legs.”

“Perfect!” Alastor trilled, a tinny recording of cheering playing in the background. “Shall we, my dear?”

“Mm.” Angel hummed, taking Alastor’s arm to lean on as they made their way towards the gardens.

* * *

  
Angel sat in the parlor, watching Husk try to teach Charlie how to shuffle a deck of cards properly. It was pretty amusing, seeing how easily Husk flicked through the cards while Charlie ended up throwing half the deck at the wall every time she tried. Angel had to give it to her, she was determined even in this.

He was waiting for Molly, who was coming over to help him cook. Out of the two of them, she had always been better in the kitchen, and who was better to help Angel recreate his favorite meals than the person who invented half of them herself? According to her text, she should be at the hotel any minute now.  
Right on cue, the front doors slammed open and a sing-song voice called out.

“Honey I’m home~” Molly called as she waltzed into the parlor, her grin only widening at the sight of her brother, Husk and Charlie. “A whole welcomin’ party? Tony. ya shouldn’t have!”

“Only the best for ya,” Angel chuckled, standing to give his sister a proper hug. Charlie bounced over, equally as excited to see the other spider while Husk offered a wave before stashing his cards back behind the bar, where Vaggie wouldn’t see them and confiscate them again. “Got the stuff?”

“Oh you know it,” She giggled, holding up three large grocery bags. “Ah! I’m so excited! It’s been so long since I’ve used such a nice kitchen!”

“Is th’ place you’re stayin’ at now not nice?” Angel didn’t like how his sister chuckled and looked away.

“Come on, let’s get cookin’! Ya know somma these recipes take a minute ta make.”

“Molly...” Angel tugged on her sleeve, making her stop.

“Tony, it ain’t no big thing,” She smiled at him. “Pops just... likes ta make sure he knows where I am. Th’ apartments he got fa us aren’t awful, they just ain’t no five star hotel like your set-up with th’ Princess.”

“Pops,” Angel growned, his fur bristling. “When will that asshole learn ta mind his own business-”

“The fuck are you slinking around the lobby for, you shady motherfucker?” Husk’s voice came from the front desk. The three looked, no one having noticed the bartender slip away from the parlor in the first place. There was a muttered voice answering him, but Angel couldn’t hear what they were saying.

“Husk? Who is it?” Charlie called out, her eyes sparkling. Angel knew exactly what she was thinking - was it someone checking into the hotel?

“Dunno,” Husk called back, a hint of a growl in his voice. “Won’t give me his fuckin’ name.”

“Welcome to the Happy Hotel!” Charlie all but sang as she rushed from the parlor towards the front desk. The voice spoke again, a little louder this time but still not loud enough for Angel or Molly to hear what they were saying.

The siblings snuck around the corner, just like they used to when they were children and their Father brought guests into the house after they were supposed to be asleep. They crept quietly, only for Molly to gasp loudly.

“Arackniss? Did ya follow me ‘ere?” She steamed, her pretty face twisted in a scowl.

“Don’t know whatcha talkin’ ‘bout.” He grumbled, crossing his arms. Angel just stared at the short spider, his mind oddly blank.

He hadn’t met his brother since coming to Hell. Sure, he knew he was down here - it was a given, considering all the shit he did for their father - but he had never seen his demon form before. He was much shorter than Angel, shorter than Charlie even, and his fur was completely black. Angel wondered why his brother was so dark while he was so bright.

“You were th’ one ta say ya didn’t wanna come see Tony! Why are ya sneakin’ ‘round like some kinda roach, huh?”

“Lay off Molls!” Arackniss shouted. Despite his short stature, Molly took a step back.

“Leave ‘er alone,” Angel wasn’t going to let their brother make his twin cower in his own goddamn home. “The fuck are ya here for Niss? Thought ya didn’t give a shit ‘bout me.”

“Who said it was for ya?” Arackniss spat angrily. After a second, he sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Fuck, this isn’t ‘ow I wanted this ta go.”

“Why did ya follow me, Niss?” Molly asked, softly this time.

“Pops was bitchin’ ‘bout Tony pissin’ off some overlords and I... I dunno. Guess it struck a nerve. We neva really got along, but ya still my baby brotha. At least when we was alive, Pops neva talked shit ‘bout you ta ma face.”

“So ‘e knows who I am?” Angel felt a helpless sounding chuckle escape his lips.

“Mm, he knew th’ second he got ‘ere,” Arackniss admitted. “Said somethin’ ‘bout recognizing ya eyes anywhere.”

“My... eyes...?” Angel subconsciously reached up, long fingers tracing the edge of his right eye - the discolored one, that had been blackened by his very own father right before he had run away. The one that hadn’t fully healed by the time he had overdosed on the one thing that had kept him sane while killing people under someone else’s orders. He had died only a week after leaving home, after someone sold him a botched dose of his namesake.

“He never really ‘ad anythin’ ta say ‘bout ya after I got here,” He continued. “I think ‘e was impressed at how you had all a Hell wrapped around ya little finger.”

“What changed then?” Angel asked quietly. No one noticed a new figure joining them in the lobby.

“Dunno,” Arackniss shoved his hands in his pockets. “Maybe ‘e caught wind that Molls was in contact with ya again and got mad. Who knows what goes on in that head a his.”

“Be honest with me,” Angel stared at his brother head on. Arackniss blinked at the seriousness radiating off his little brother. “Why are ya here?”

“I...” He trailed off, all of his eyes narrowing for a moment before he sighed. “I wanted ta see ya. It’s been almost a century since we’ve talked, and I missed ya.”

“I thought Pops convinced ya what a waste a time I was.” Angel spat the words, causing the smaller spider to wince.

“Yeah, well, Pops was wrong ‘bouta lotta things.”

“Is he gonna be mad that ya came here?”

“Probably,” Arackniss shrugged. “Ain’t like he’d off me though. Even down ‘ere I’m one a his best goons. He ain’t dumb enough ta get ridda me.”

“Ya shouldn’t just be a goon,” Angel scoffed, crossing his arms. The stump of his fourth arm moved, as if he had put a phantom hand on his hip. “You’re th’ first born - and a boy ta boot! He should be treatin’ ya like a goddamn prince!”

“Yeah, well he shouldn’t’ve treated you like that eitha,” Arackniss sniffed haughtily, trying to appear cold despite the words coming from his mouth. “I mighta been th’ oldest, but you was always th’ talented one.”

“Huh?” Angel’s arms dropped to his side in surprise.

“You think I neva noticed?” Arackniss shook his head, as if he were playfully scolding the much taller demon. “How ya sang in th’ showa or how ya hid your sketches unda your bed. Pops neva saw it, but me and Molls and Ma did.”

“Oh...” Angel didn’t know what to feel. He thought he had done a good job hiding his more... casual hobbies. Their Father never had time for pleasantries, and he assumed his brother was the same seeing how before he was even eighteen, Arackniss was a carbon copy of their father.

“There’s somethin’ else I’ve always wanted ta say ta ya,” Arackniss broke Angel from his thoughts. Angel looked at his brother, leaning back subconsciously, as if expecting to be hit or berated. “I’m glad ya got away, even if ya... didn’t make it long afta.”

“Why would ya be proud a me for that?” Confused didn’t even begin to cover how Angel was feeling.

“It takes a fuck tonna moxie ta walk out on the Family like that,” Arackniss gave his brother a lopsided smile. “I know I’d neva be able ta do it. The guts that took... even Pops was impressed, afta he got ova being an absolute fuckin’ pill ‘bout it.”

“How did ‘e take it? When I left?” Angel winced a little. His father’s reaction to his youngest son disappearing was one thing that still gave Angel nightmares.

“Fuckin’ pissed as all hell, but afta a while ‘e calmed down. Refused ta fill ya spot for a while, sayin’ no one would be good enough but eventually caved n’ found someone else ta be his intimidator.”

“Ha, as if that fucka eva cared.” Angel scoffed, his casual smirk coming easier now that he was talking about something he knew to be true.

“Tony... Pops wasn’t a good person,” Arackniss started slowly. “I’ll be th’ first ta admit ‘e was a fuckin’ asshole who killed too much. ‘E was violent with ‘is family and let th’ powa go ta ‘is head... He deserves ta be in Hell more than anyone a us, but he neva hated ya.”

“Ha... as if...” Angel wanted to laugh, but both of his siblings were looking at him with serious expressions. His chuckle tapered off as his eyebrows furrowed. “He... what?”

“It’s true Tony,” Molly chimed in. “He was a real piece a work, but ‘e always talked ‘bout ‘ow good ya was at ya job, and how th’ othas could learn a thing or two from ya.”

“Afta ya left, ‘e lost ‘is temper more,” Arackniss continued. “None a us knew what happened to ya afterwards. We... we kinda hoped ya found a place ta settle down... found out th’ truth when we got down ‘ere though.”

“I neva thought ‘e cared...” Angel trailed off, his eyes stinging. Learning this about his father didn’t erase a lifetime of abuse and fear, but Angel found himself thinking of the man in a slightly different light.

“I don’t think ‘e realized it eitha,” Arackniss scoffed. “Until you was gone.”

“Angel, my dear, I don’t believe I’ve had the privilege of being introduced to this lovely addition to the hotel’s lobby.” Alastor took his chance to let his presence be known. Everyone jumped a little, excluding Husk who had a sixth sense when it came to his boss.

“Holy fuck,” Arackniss’ eyes - all eight of them - widened when he realized who was staning before him. “You’re th’-”

“This is Alastor,” Angel didn’t notice he was smiling at Al until his sister shot him a knowing look. “Al, this is my olda brotha, Arackniss.”

“A pleasure to meet you, my good fellow,” Alastor put his hand out to shake. Arackniss looked at the extended hand, then to the face of the demon the hand was connected to before gulping thickly and reaching out himself. Alastor gave the shorter demon a firm shake before pulling away. Arakniss seemed shocked that he hadn’t been eaten. “Any family of Angel is welcome at the hotel.”

“Th-thanks...” He trailed off, looking down.

“Don’t be like that Niss,” She giggled. “Al’s a right joy! And he’s been takin’ such good care a Tony!”

“I see...” Arackniss sounded like he did not, in fact, see.

“You seem uneasy,” Alastor’s grin widened, causing the smaller spider to flinch. Angel, however, was better at reading Al’s expressions and knew the deer was absolutely just pulling his brother’s leg. “I wonder why.”

“Lay off Smiles,” Angel tried to sound as though he were scolding Alastor, but he couldn’t hide the laughter behind his words. “Don’t scare ‘im off just yet.”

“Of course, mon ange,” Alastor bowed a little to him, making it very difficult for Angel to keep a straight face in front of his family. “I see someone has abandoned their groceries in our parlor! Is there any reason for the impromptu delivery?”

“Oh jeez,” Molly jumped, rushing back to where she had left the bags. “I ‘ope nothin’ got too warm.”

“Are you makin’...?” Arackniss trailed off, trying to look as though he wasn’t very obviously craning his neck to peek into the bags.

“Just somma Tony’s favorites,” Molly grinned brightly, her hair bouncing with the excitement in her body. “Would ya wanna... come ‘elp us cook?”

“Really?” Arackniss’ eyes widened. Angel thought he looked smaller suddenly.

“Mm, it’ll be like th’ good ol’ days!” Her eyes shined brightly, all but begging her older brother to stay.

“Fine... but I can’t stay fa long,” Arackniss’ fur was bristling. Alastor thought it was interesting how the embarrassed puff was a family trait. “Can’t let Pops know where I am. Who knows what’ll happen.”

Angel deflated a little. As thrilled as he was to have his siblings together again, he realized if their father were to find where they had been sneaking off to, it would be more than just Angel getting the far end of the stick. Angel might be protected by Alastor, but Molly and Arackniss didn’t have the same shield. Their father would have all the opportunity in Hell to punish his children for disobeying him. Angel hoped no one would find out they were at the hotel.

Maybe he’d ask Alastor to send one of his shadows back with them to keep an eye on them.

“Come on then!” Molly cheered, squealing a little. She bounced towards the kitchens, the others filing into a line behind her.

Angel watched them go, a soft smile on his face. He had been so caught up in the warmth in his chest, he hadn’t realized the others were nearly out of sight. Alastor placed a gentle hand on the small of his back, his gloved claws barely applying any pressure.

“Shall we, mon cher?” Alastor asked, offering Angel one of his genuine smiles.

“Mm, yeah,” Angel nodded. They walked, but Alastor’s hand didn’t move. “I think you’re gonna like what we’re gonna make. ‘S not anything like you’re used ta, but it’ll be good.”

“I’m sure it will be, dear,” Alastor played a soft laugh track. “If you enjoy it, it cannot be that bad.”

Angel snickered, pretending the fluff on his chest wasn’t suddenly much, much fluffier.

* * *

“You’re still up?” Angel asked, mildly surprised. It was storming, the acid rain eating away at soft tissue and thunder rattling the window frames with every hit. He had been ripped from his sleep by a loud rumble, and he found he was awake for good.

Husk flinched a little. He was sitting by the large window in the parlor, only a small desk lamp on to illuminate the entire room. Sometimes a burst of lightning would cast shadows on the walls, but it always faded quickly.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He said gruffly, not looking at Angel.

“The storm?” He asked, moving to sit next to Husk. He left a gap between them, having the feeling Husk wouldn’t appreciate having someone in his space.

“Mm.” Husk hummed, his eyes never leaving his reflection in the window.

Angel nodded, turning to watch the rain. It was beautiful, in a way. The drops had a faint blue tinge, making it look like the reddened sky was crying. Back on earth, his Ma had always said the rain was God’s tears - ironic, now that he was in Hell, how the droplets looked more like tears than ever before.

Not much was getting damaged outside other than the occasional cloth awning to a building, or the rare unlucky soul that didn’t get the memo. Angel watched as the drops ate away, creating a patchwork of holes in anything that wasn’t stone or metal.

“Don’t like the rain,” Husk said after a long while of silence. Angel glanced at him, not saying anything. He gave his friend the time he needed, knowing too well how hard it was to find the words you needed. “Gives me flashbacks.”

“From th’ war?” Angel asked gently. He didn’t want to push it, but he hoped talking about it might help Husk release some of his pent up emotions about it.

“Yeah...” He sighed heavily. Angel noted there was no smell of cheap booze around the cat demon - Husk was sober and it was clear he had been for several hours. “Back when I was alive, drinkin’ made the flashbacks go away but here they just make them worse.”

Angel nodded again. He wondered if Husk had the same thing that some of the men who came home from the first world war had - the hollow eyes and the ringing in their ears and the flashbacks that threw them back into the middle of the war that they could never escape, because no matter how long they managed to survive after the last bullet was fired, part of their mind would forever be on that battle field.

“Rain makes it worse,” Husk whispered. “Thunder makes me think of when I... with my squad... sometimes I blink and I’m back in that god-cursed jungle again... Surrounded by guns and screaming and blood... Ya know, red and green ain’t as pretty as a combo as you’d think.”

“Do you always deal with this on your own?” Angel asked.

“Usually,” Husk closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Before he could open his eyes again, there was a loud crash of thunder. Husk jumped, his feathers bristling and trembling as a faint whining filled the parlor. “Sometimes Niffty sits with me. Sometimes Al plays music or somethin’ to drown it all out... I try to keep it to myself though.”

“Why?”

“I deserve it,” Husk opened his eyes slowly. Angel could see the unshed tears clinging to his eyelashes. “I know what I did was fucked up. It was violent and selfish and I damned all those poor fucks to Hell. I accepted that years ago...”

“It’s not your fault,” Angel whispered. Husk blinked, his eyebrows raising in shock. It was the most emotion the cat had shown since Angel walked down. Husk scoffed before turning back to the window, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow resting on the desk that pressed up against the pane. “Ya did what ya had ta do outta desperation. Ya didn’t do it ‘cuz you thought it would be fun, or ‘cuz ya got bored.”

“Doesn’t matter why I did it,” Husk’s voice sounded tight. “I did and now I’m serving my punishment.”

“Their deaths ain’t your fault,” Angel whispered. “Ya didn’t do it cuz you wanted ta do it, and it ain’t your fault that the war made ya do shit.”

“You-” Husk couldn’t hold back a snort. “Are you throwing my own words back at me?”

“Did you say that?” Angel scratched his chin dramatically. “I can’t seem ta rememba where I heard it from.”

“Ppft-” Husk snickered, the tension in the air lightening.

“Hypothetically, if ya wanted ta come up ta my room we could take a nap,” Angel said coyly, drawing another huff of laughter from the cat demon. “I hafta admit, I have that softest blankets in this sidda th’ pentagram.”

“You know what?” Husk’s shoulders slumped. “Why not? I ain’t getting any sleep on my own and I’d rather be awake somewhere comfortable.”

Angel offered Husk a small smile before leading the smaller demon up towards his room. Fat Nuggets was still sleeping soundly in their piggy bed, not even stirring as the door was pushed open and closed again.

The vanity light was still on, casting the room in a soft pink light, which only emphasized how soft and pink everything else in the room was. Husk smirked a little, noting how similar the decor was to the owner.

“Come ‘ere Husky,” Angel sat on the bed, making sure there was plenty of room on the opposite of the mattress. “I only bite if ya consent to it.”

“Not tonight,” Husk teased lightly. As pissed as he had been to be bothered, he was finding that Angel’s company did wonders to chase away the thick slime that had been weighing him down all evening. “I’d make a joke about taking you up on that another time, but I value my head.”

“Huh?” Angel made a shocked sound.

“You being serious?” Husk looked as shocked as Angel felt.

“About what?”

“You two...” Husk snickered again, shaking his head a little. “Nevermind. You’ll figure it out soon enough. No need to bring it up now.”

They two got comfortable, Husk snuggling into the thick down comforter. It was softer than he had expected - he knew Angel had bragged about it, but he hadn’t realized how true the spider’s statement was - and he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gentle rumble as the tension leaked from his muscles.

“Is it aight if I pet ya?” Angel asked, smiling softly at the sight of Husk looking so comfy against the thick pink covers.

“Please?”

“Mm.” Angel ran his fingers through Husk’s fur, the rumbling growing louder as Husk let his stress melt away. Every few minutes, a bright flash of lighting would light the room quickly followed by a loud crash of thunder would shake the building. He wished his fourth arm was back, so he could pet Husk’s side as well, but it had only regenerated to the elbow.

Angel’s eyes grew heavy, his motions slowing until he fell asleep, his fingers still tangled in Husk’s fur.

Angel blinked awake as someone gentle adjusted his body. He blinked blearily, humming in confusion. A gentle hand ran through his bangs.

“Go back to sleep, mon cher,” Alastor whispered, his voice soft. Angel’s chest warmed at the slight accent, wanting to turn to Al and lean into the other’s warmth only to find there was something heavy laying on two of his arms. “Shh, it’s alright.”

“Whatcha doin’ ‘ere?” He grumbled, still half asleep.

“I know how storms make you feel,” He responded. Angel still couldn’t see Al in the faint light, but he could enjoy the gentle claws carding through his fur. “I wanted to see if you were holding up alright. Imagine my surprise to see another man in bed with you.”

“Pft,” Angel snickered. “Husker don’t like me like that.”

“Inconceivable, I know,” A soft laugh. “Rest your eyes, my dear. Morning shall be upon us before we know it.”

“Mm, night Smiles...” Angel trailed off. He felt the covers being tugged up over his shoulders.

“Goodnight, my love.”

Angel could have sworn he felt something lightly press against his forehead, but when he really thought about it the next morning, he decided it was most likely just the remnant of the dream he had of Alastor coming to visit him.

* * *

Angel threw his head back, laughing loudly. Charlie grinned brightly despite the pain in her eyes. As happy as she was to see Angel smiling again, Alastor’s jokes always made her grit her teeth a little.

“Fuckin’ hell Smiles,” Angel’s cackles finally started to calm a little. “Where do ya come up with these?”

“Sheer wit, my dear!” Alastor grinned, clearly pleased that Angel was enjoying his shitty puns so greatly. “It’s both a blessing and a curse to have such a mind.”

“A curse? Yeah. A blessing? Debatable.” Husk took a long sip from his bottle. Despite his emotionless tone, there was a slight curve up to one side of his mouth.

“Hey! I ‘appen ta think he’s the fuckin’ funniest one a yas here!” Angel whipped his head around to glare at Husk, who just shrugged. Angel was on that fine line between tipsy and drunk, thanks to Charlie who decided the staff of the hotel deserved a night to let loose and enjoy themselves after everything they've been through. It had only been a week since the fight with Val, and they had only just finished repairing the damages that afternoon.

“That’s the brain damage speaking.” Vaggie snickered, her grey cheeks flushed and her one eye shining. She was leaning heavily into Charlie’s side, not having quite the tolerance that the others did. It had taken quite a bit of convincing for her to have a little fun.

“Brain damage aside,” Angel waved his hand dismissively. “Al here is one a da fuckin’ funniest fuckas in all a Hell.”

Angel leaned into Alastor’s side, letting his head rest in the crook of his neck. Everyone glanced at Alastor, waiting for his reaction, and the breath of relief when he simply smiled wider and wrapped an arm around Angel’s waist to steady him could be felt throughout the room.

“I’m always appreciative of a willing audience,” Alastor trilled, his grin more genuine and less purposefully intimidating now that he was half a bottle of brandy into the evening.

“And you, my dear, are the most captivating of all.”

“Wh- you- I-” Angel spluttered, his eyes crossing a little as he tried to think of something to say, which was hard seeing how his mind had completely flatlined.

“If we had known that was all it took to shut him up...” Vaggie trailed off, snickering into Charlie’s neck.

“Hey! Be careful!” Niffty whined as Angel spilled some of his drink on her head. She had been walking past, heading for her own seat, but was stopped by a sudden shower of sticky sweet tequila cocktail.

“Ah- sorry honey,” Angel giggled. He reached down and blotted her head with a napkin, almost falling off his stool. It was only thanks to Alastor that he didn’t end up in a drunken pile of limbs on the ground. “Now you’re twice as sweet though!”

Niffty opened her mouth to say something, only to think better of it and rolled her eye instead. She hopped up on the bar, sitting on the edge next to where Husk was standing. Angel sighed happily, letting himself focus on the floating feeling he had missed so much. He hadn’t had enough to drink to even get CLOSE to touching tipsy in a long while.

“I’d like to make a toast,” Charlie said, calling the attention back to her. She and Niffty were the only two in the room that weren’t sloshed, Alastor and Husk being somewhat close behind - which left Angel and Vaggie to be dead last. “To the hotel, and everyone in it! We’ve come so far, and I can’t begin to thank you all for what you’ve done to help. I never would have made it this far with my dream if I didn’t have you all supporting me.”

Everyone raised their glass, even Alastor who hadn’t taken his eyes off of Angel.

“And I wanted to give a special toast to Angel,” She turned to the spider, who froze. He stared back at her, his eyes wide and vulnerable. “You’ve come so far since the first day we talked. You’ve been through so much, and I’m so proud of you. I know how hard it’s been for you, and you’ve proven to every single person that’s ever doubted you wrong.”

“Princess...” Angel whispered, his voice trembling faintly.

“Just accept the praise.” Husk huffed, smirking as he rolled his eyes.

“You deserve it!” Niffty chirped, holding her tequila-dampened napkin behind her small hands.

“We are all very proud of you, darling.” Alastor added, thoroughly enjoying how Angel’s fur instantly puffed out. He resisted the urge to run his fingers through it, knowing fully well how soft Angel’s fluff would be against his bare hands.

“Th’ fuck you guys...” Angel trailed off, sniffling slightly, causing a chuckle to spread through the room, which immediately turned into shocked sounds when tears began to roll down his cheeks, soaking his fur.

“No! Don’t cry!” Charlie gasped, desperately grabbing for some napkins. She wasn’t fast enough, because by the time she reached out to Angel, Alastor was already dabbing the spider’s tears with a red handkerchief.

“I believe we shall retire for the evening,” Alastor said cheerily, which was directly contradictory to the soft gaze leveled towards Angel. He helped them both stand, allowing the taller demon to lean on him as the room spun. “Thank you all, for a very enjoyable time.”

“We should do this again.” Vaggie mumbled, her eye fluttering shut as Charlie had to prop her up.

“Mm, we will soon hun,” Charlie tucked a lock of hair behind Vaggie’s ear. “Make sure he gets to bed safe, okay?”

“Of course, Charlotte dear,” Alastor grinned. “Anything for our precious Angel.”  
Alastor and Angel made their way up to the latter's room, Alastor humoring Angel as the taller demon muttered and gigged along.

“Hey Smiles?” Angel asked as they pushed through the closed door.

“Yes?”

“I think... Don’t fuckin’ tell nobodies but I think you’re really fuckin’ swell,” He giggled, not noticing how Alastor seemed to pause. “You’re... so neat and shit... so fuckin’ nice ta someone like me even when ya don’t gotta be...”

“Angel-” Alastor’s smile dropped.

“A, l-lemme finish ‘fore I pussy out again,” Angel sat heavily on his bed, bouncing a little and giggling. He fell back, looking up at the pink sheer canopy, a silly little grin on his face. “I dunno why you’re so f-fuckin’ nice ta me... makes me feel good- real special, like..like I’m actually worth somethin’, ya know?”

“Mon ange, you are worth so much more than you know...” Alastor sounded sad, which caused Angel to frown. He tried to sit up but the room started to spin again and he flopped back down onto his blankets.

“Between yous and me?” Angel whispered, squinting up at Alastor.

“Mm?” He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over Angel, smirking down at him.

“Between yous and me, I think I’d trust ya with my life,” Angel whispered. Alastor felt the air freeze in his lungs. “You and Cherri and Molls... and- and I know I ain’t all that strong but I’d give the resta my aftalife to protect ya too, Smiles.”

“That’s...” Alastor, for the first time in decades, felt speechless.

“Mm, wanna go ta sleep...” Angel rolled over, nuzzling his cheek into his pillow.

“I shall allow you to rest then.” He made to stand, only to find himself pausing.

“Stay?” Angel cracked a single eye open, one of his hands wrapped loosely around the other’s wrist.

“Is that what you truly wish?”

“Please?”

“Of course,” Alastor couldn’t deny such a genuine request, especially from Angel. “Would it be alright if I were to lay next to you?”

Angel just nodded into his sheets, tugging on Alastor’s wrist again. Alastor shook his head affectionately. He was sure the next day would be interesting, especially considering how much they had all drank, but for the time being he was content to just exist in the moment.

* * *

  
Angel sat perched on the front desk in the lobby, tapping away on his phone. His fourth arm was put in a sling. It had regenerated midway through his forearm. He just had about a foot left before he was fully healed, but for the time being he used a sling to keep the partial limb from getting in the way.

Husk was napping on the desk, his wings wrapped around his body like a blanket. He was snoring gently, and Angel didn’t have the heart to wake him - he did, however, have the heart to film a short clip for later blackmailing.

Just as he was about to hop off the desk to go in search of someone to show the video to - he knew Alastor was talking to Charlie about some hotel crap and Niffty was out running errands. Vaggie might still be around, and Angel was pretty sure she would find the clip equally as amusing - the front door slammed open.

“Th’ fuck?” Angel shouted, just barely catching his phone that he had thrown in his shock. He let the device clatter to the ground as he took in who had entered the hotel.

Niffty collapsed onto the carpet, her small body trembling. Her clothes were so red the original pattern wasn’t even visible anymore. The scent of blood hitting Angel’s nose was what made him move.

“NIFFTY!” He ran over to her, pulling her against his chest. She curled into him, shaking harder as she sobbed quietly.

“What’s goin on?” Husk growled, still groggy from his nap.

“Who did this to you?” Angel asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“You- you gotta go.” She whispered back, her eye closed tightly.

“Who DID THIS?”

“He’s coming!” She tried to wiggle out of his grip but found she was too weak to make any difference.

“Who?”

“He’s gonna kill us!”

“Who!?” Husk and Angel asked at the same time.

“What’s going on?” Alastor and Charlie came springing down the hall, having heard the shouting.

“Boss!” Niffty struggled to open her eye, tears washing away the blood splattered on her chin. “You gotta stop him-”

“Knock knock!” A familiar voice crackled as a large figure blocked the light coming in from the open doors.

“You...” Angel growled, holding Niffty closer to his chest.

“It’s me~” Vox cooed, a wicked grin stretched across his screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so close to the end :( I really don't have much to say in this note but thank you everyone for reading and commenting and supporting up till now! I want to finish the two fics I have yet to complete after this, but once they're done I definitely wanna dive back into the HH fandom! No clue what I'll write about, but I have a little bit of time to think about that :3


	9. Healing

“I was wondering when you were going to pay us a visit,” Alastor’s grin sharpened, his shadow growing behind him, only just hinting at the true monster he could become. Vox just grinned, his screen glitching for a moment before settling again. “I must admit, it took you longer than I expected to lick your wounds.”

“Big talk as always Alastor,” Vox chuckled, his eyes squinting, making him look borderline insane. “But that’s not going to save you this time. You... you’ve crossed the fucking line, you goddamn roadkill!”

“I assure you, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Alastor stepped forward, adjusting his glove. Angel was the only one to notice how his red eyes seemed to flick back towards the rest of the staff, who were standing several feet away. Husk had taken Niffty behind the front counter, most likely to keep her out of the way of the impending fight that was about to break out. “Have I wronged you in some way?”

“You know exactly what you did!” Vox screeched, his screen blinking blue as the room was filled with the sound of a high pitched dissonant tone. His face came back, flipping through several classic characters, all fuming. “You killed Val, and I’m not going to let it slide!”

“Who?” Alastor’s neck snapped to the side, his eyes wide. Vox’s expression flickered for a moment at the sight of the radio dials - anyone who had been in Hell for more than a few months knew what happened when the Radio Demon got mad - but he grit his teeth.

“D⛣៷’ㄒ ρረĄ丫 Ð૫ጣβ...” His words came out jumbled, like several channels playing all at once. His wires rose from behind him, their exposed ends sparked dangerously. Angel felt his hands tremble at the sight of the chords - his last encounter was still too fresh in his mind to be able to do anything other than cower. “៷☉ mÖ🇷⋿ ፍД🇲Σऽ... 丫оυ’Rદ ငĄ🗲⊂عレ∟∑D.”

His wires shot forward without warning. Alastor had a split second to summon his shadow limbs, managing to throw the others across the lobby just as the electrified spikes dug into the walls where they had just been standing.

“Look out!” Charlie called just in time for Alastor to feel one of the wires cut into his upper arm as it came whipped back towards Vox. He pressed a glove finger to the wound and looked at the glistening red with mild disdain before turning back to the other overlord.

“I do believe this is a bit of an overreaction,” He huffed, his smile plastered to his face. He could see how Vox seemed more wary of him the longer he kept it up. “One demon is nothing to get into such a brawl over.”

“One demon?” Vox’s voice dropped, his words back to normal. There was still a hint of the flipping channels, but he sounded more human. “One... demon? Val was more than just one FUCKING DEMON!”

“You’re right,” Alastor perked up before his smile flattened. He looked up at Vox, his eyes glowing and a black X cutting itself into his forehead. “Valentino wasn’t just a demon. He was a roach beneath my shoe that I allowed to scurry around for far too long.”

As he spoke, his torso elongated, as did his horns. By the time he was finished, his body matched his shadow once more. He towered over Vox, his antlers now having dozens of points each and scraping against the ceiling of the lobby.

“You broke our treaty,” Vox’s screen glitched again before flashing through what looked like memories - they went too quickly to see what was actually happening in them, but Angel would recognize that long red coat and that sharp grin anywhere. “And now, you are going to pay the price.”

“I did no such thing,” Alastor’s voice came out garbled by the fangs crowding out of his mouth. “He came onto my territory.”

“This... this is all け፲ऽ բĀ∟ㅜ.” Vox spun, his crazed eyes boring directly into Angel’s core. Angel took a shaking step backwards, only to feel someone put a hand on the small of his back.

“You’re not going to lay a finger on him.” Charlie shouted, her voice projecting easily over the crackling of the electrical wires. Angel glanced back to her and felt his breath leave his lungs. Only once had he ever seen the Princess’ demon form, and that was when he watched the playback of the news segment he had ruined thanks to his turf fight.

During her song, she had hinted at her true power, giving them a glimpse of who she was as a warning. That was only a taste, for the demon standing behind him radiated power.

Her horns pushed her hair back, and if Angel wasn’t as familiar with the woman as he already was, he wouldn’t have recognized her.

“It’ll be an honor to eradicate you and your stupid hotel,” Vox leered at Charlie, who’s hair had started to whip around on it’s own. “When I’m done here... ㄒዘ∑🇷౬ ሠ፲ረ🇱 ദε ៷0ㄒዛエ🇳 ဌ Ьυ∤ րሀЬ♭།୧ Lе£ቲ.”

The wires began to lash around violently, forcing everyone to dive for cover to avoid being ripped in two. Angel could feel his heartbeat in the pads of his feet as he gasped for breath. This was...

All his fault. Vox was right. This was all his fault. If only he had never come to the hotel in the first place. Alastor never would have had a reason to fight Valentino. If only he had never made that stupid contract with Val. If only Val had left him to be eaten as soon as he fell.

“Oi! Fuckface!” Angel heard himself shouting over the din. Vox paused, swinging around to stare at the spider. His screen glitched, his entire head twitching as his grin turned savage.

“There you are...” He cackled, his wires shooting out.

“Angel!”

“Move!”

“NO-”

“I’m th’ one ya want,” Angel called as he dodged the wires, his long limbs able to slip around the thick cords easily. “Doncha wanna come play with me instead?”

He darted out the front door, knowing Vox would be hot on his tail. True to his theory, the door was ripped from its hinges as Vox stormed out of the hotel. A shrill tone made Angel want to cover his ears, but he didn’t have time as he jumped away from another onslaught from the wires.

He summoned his trusty tommy gun and fired wildly in Vox’s direction. He knew his bullets were nothing compared to an overlord, but he hoped it was enough to distract him.

The sound of cracking glass was instantly followed by a shout of pain. The wires froze in the air as Vox clutched at his screen.

His head whipped up, his glare sharp enough to cut. Angel saw how half of his face was thick, colorful lines broken up by static while the other side showed one crazed eye and half of a murderous grin.

“You’re fucking dead, you damn ωんÖг୧!” Vox screeched, his voice breaking from the feedback of his rage. Angel dove to the side, avoiding a direct hit from the electricity but in return scraped his healing arm roughly against the pavement. He bit back a scream of pain, the half regenerated limb still sensitive.

A wire dug deep into the sidewalk, inches from Angel’s head. He had just enough time to roll as another slammed down right where his face had been. Wire after wire crushed the cement, each time almost smashing Angel’s skull like a rotting pumpkin. He hissed as he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the new onslaught from slicing into his skin. Blood soaked his fur from the shallow cuts, slowing him down even more.

“HEY FUCKFACE!” Vaggie screamed, drawing Vox’s attention from Angel. Her holy spear sliced through the wires that raced towards her and to Angel’s surprise, Vox shouted in pain at the loss of his metal limbs.

“You’re not getting away now.” Husk growled, his fur standing on end. He spread his wings and took to the sky before diving down. His claws sunk into Vox’s screen, causing the display to glitch even more.

If he managed to survive this, his screen would fix itself within a few days. Angel had seen the progress of the overlord healing several times before when Vox pissed Val off enough to hurt him. Angel had always felt bad for the shorter overlord, because it seemed like Val was doing nothing but taking advantage of his loyalty and seeing how far he could abuse Vox before it backfired. It seemed he was wrong, however - no one who was being used would fight so hard for their abuser.

Fire started to grow around the area, trapping the fight within the boundaries of the flaming ring. Angel scrambled over to where the others were standing, summoning three guns as soon as he was properly on his feet again.

“You don’t have to fight him,” He said through grit teeth, his body aching from the healing wounds. “He blames me. If he gets what he wants, maybe he’ll leave-”

“You must be fuckin stupid,” Husk cut him off, landing next to the spider. “We’re not going to let him take you.”

“If this is how we go, then this is how we go.” Vaggie never took her eye from Vox.

“I promise I’ll protect you all with everything I have.” Charlie turned to them, smiling warmly for what might be the last time.

“It’s been an honor getting to know you, mon ange,” Alastor barely sounded like himself as he shrunk slightly, his form still a grotesque mockery of the demon Angel had fallen for. A clawed hand caressed Angel’s cheek, his fingers longer than his entire face. “And it will be an honor to die alongside you.”

“You’re th’ fuckin’ Radio Demon,” Angel chuckled wetly. He leaned into Alastor’s palm, his throat tight. “This won’t kill ya. At least you and Chacha will be fine.”

“I will not allow him to get away with this.” Alastor didn’t comment on what Angel said, because he knew it was true. Compared to Vox, Alastor and Charlie were equally matched, if not stronger, but if they had to fight while also protecting those who were nowhere near being close to Vox’s level made the odds of winning low. Even if they fought with everything they had, they still had things to lose. Vox had nothing to lose, so he had no reason to hold back whatsoever.

Even if they won, the chances of casualties were... too high. Regular demons getting caught up in a fight between overlords was certain erasure.

“What...?”

Angel’s head shot up. Vox was staring at them, his wires frozen in midair. If he didn’t know any better, Angel would say Vox almost sounded... small.

Vox watched the ragtag group of soon to be corpses regroup with a wicked grin. He could feel his screen meshing back together again, and he knew all he needed to do was take the damn slut out in order to avenge Val properly. After all, it was all his fault-

He paused. They were talking to each other, promising to protect one another against him, and it even sounded as though they knew the odds weren’t in their favor. Vox was extremely powerful, and now that he was unhinged he was even more dangerous. His screen dimmed as he listened to their exchanges.

“What...?” He trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing. Images flashed across his face, so quickly that even he wasn’t able to catch them all. There was a faint ache in the back of his brain that made him wince. Why were they like this? This was- this was Hell. It was every demon for themselves. Treaties and alliances were formalities, and allies were always potential enemies.

So why? Why were these outcasts being like this? Why were they so- so...

Genuine.

No one in Hell would treat another demon like that. Not even Val would-

“Let’s do this then.” Charlie took a deep breath before turning to face Vox.

“Wait,” Angel put a hand out, stopping the Princess from going anywhere. He had seen the change in Vox’s posture, his crazed tension leaching out as if he had been unplugged. His wires slammed to the ground, lifeless, as he stared into space, his screen glitching and twitching through images. “Something’s off.”

“Why?” Vox demanded, his voice tinny in his ears. “What- what do you gain from making such- such trivial relationships?”

“Who said they were trivial?” Angel questioned back, making Vox blink.

“I don’t understand,” He frowned, images shooting past at breakneck speeds. “I don’t-”

“What’s so hard ta understand?”

“Val would never have-” Vox froze completely, as if he was suddenly made of stone. The others watched warily, on edge but ready to attack at the drop of a metaphorical hat.

Vox’s mind was spinning. He didn’t notice the Hazbins staring at him, for he was too deep in his own realization.

He and Valentino had been the closest possible allies that Hell allowed. They did everything with the other, from gaining new territory to splitting the spoils of war. Val helped him keep his grip tight and he helped Val keep his own problem spots in line. They were business partners, but they were more too.

Val touched him so gently. Vox knew he was special, because Val never touched anyone else as if he were worried about hurting them. When they fucked, there was something more to it - at least, Vox thought there was something more to it. He would do anything for Valentino, because his entire existence was wrapped so tightly around Val’s own.

When Val called him up, saying they were going to teach the whore and the deer bitch a lesson they would never forget, Vox didn’t even hesitate. He would lay waste to Lucifer’s castle if Val asked him to.

But would Val ever do that in return? All the times he had asked for assistance, Val would send some of his thugs to help him. Valentino himself only ever showed up the second the fighting was over. On the rare occasion, he would arrive in enough time to kill a demon or two, but otherwise avoided the conflict.

Vox’s hands began to shake a little. He gripped the front of his jacket.

“Don’t worry baby, you have me now,” Val’s voice played out, his face filling Vox’s screen. Angel flinched. “No one can hurt you now, understood? All you have to do in return is be good for me? You can do that, right?”

“Y-yes...” Vox answered out loud, as if the recording could still hear him. A new video began playing.

“WHY CAN’T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?” Val screamed. This time, everyone flinched. “WHY DO I EVEN BOTHER?”

“I’m sorry Val,” Vox’s voice came from the recording this time. “I promise it won’t happen again!”

“It better fucking not.”

“What’s going on?” Husk whispered, staring at the overlord, who was standing so still that the only sign he was still conscious was the trembling fingers that were ripping into the front of his coat.

“He’s realizin’ th’ same shit I did.” Angel’s chest burned. He recognized the look on Vox’s face a little too well - it was the face of someone who was realizing they had been tricked. That they had been used.

“Would he have tried to avenge me?” Vox asked himself, letting out a shaky laugh. “He- would Val have even cared that I died? Would he care about me? He was supposed to be my partner... he was supposed to Һ୧∣ρ ጠ∑.”

He screeched, his hands flying up to his face, digging into the cracks in his screen, as if trying to pull the realization out of his head entirely. Charlie stepped forward, her face open and scared - not of Vox, not anymore. She was scared FOR him.

“พҺყ α៳ エ ୧Ⅴଽ៷ Һଽրع?” His voice bugged, hitching on every other sound.

“Vox!” Charlie called out to him. Vaggie, just a moment too late, missed as she tried to swipe and pull her girlfriend back. The princess stepped forward, and Hell held its breath.

“ฟんа七?”

“Valentino lied to you,” She took another step forward. Vox didn’t move. “He used your loyalty for his own gain.”

“ડቲ0ρ.” He whimpered, covering his eyes.

“You’re hurting. You feel betrayed,” Another step. No one moved. “You don’t know what to do now. He’s gone, and he left you alone.”

“ωҺĄፒ ժ0 ყ☉∪ ฟẢ🗲も?” The glitching in his voice only got worse.

“What if I could help you?”

“Ỵ☉υ?”

“What? Charlie no!” Vaggie cried, but the other woman just shook her head.

“I know everyone thinks my hotel is doomed to fail,” She offered the overlord a small smile. He looked at her as though she sprouted wings and declared the extermination was to come early that year. “But I made a promise that I wouldn’t turn anyone away. I gave Alastor the benefit of the doubt, even when he said he was only there to watch us burn. I gave Angel as many chances as he needed, even when he continued relapsing.”

“Princess, maybe you should think about this-” Angel was cut off.

“You have two options,” She held up two fingers. Vox’s eyes followed them like it was a lifeline. “You can walk away right now, and live with the knowledge that you have no support system, or you can check into the hotel and give yourself a second chance.”

“Charlotte,” Alastor shadow walked over to where she was standing, making Vox stumble back a step at his sudden appearance. He was mostly back to normal, only a foot or so too tall and his antlers just a tad too long and his grin just a bit too sharp. “Are you making a wise decision? Do not forget who it was who ripped Angel’s arm off.”

“We have an entire floor of the hotel that no one’s using,” Charlie never took her eyes from Vox. “I can write up a special contract for him, to ensure things run smoothly.”

“Hun, are you sure this is a good idea?” Vaggie ran over to her, placing a hand on the blonde’s arm.

“I’m not going to turn a single soul away.”

“ധҺყ Ąг୧ У⊙U ♭عįกဌ ⋂ί⊂ε 七0 ៳౬?” He twitched, his screen flashing between images and never settling on one for more than a single beat before moving onto the next. Angel had never seen the overlord so distressed before.

“Because I don’t think you’re a bad person,” Charlie grinned, her demon form falling back into her normal one. “And I think after what you’ve been through, you could use a place that can support you.”

“But...”

“You don’t have to,” She reiterated. “Unlike Valentino, I’m not going to give you the illusion of choice only to force you to do what I want in the end. You are allowed to walk away right now and none of us will touch you.”

As she spoke, the fire began to sputter and die out, leaving nothing but a scorched circle on the pavement to show it was ever there in the first place.

“I hurt you...” Vox stared at his hands, his voice dull. He sounded the way Angel did, when he was at the deepest part of his depression. It sent a shiver down Angel’s spine - he understood why everyone was so worried now. If that was really what he sounded like, he wouldn’t be surprised if they all expected him to slit his own throat with a holy blade.

“Angel!” Charlie called back to him. Alastor’s head whipped around, his gaze burning into Angel’s eyes as the spider walked forward.

“Yeah?” He wrapped his arms around his chest, keeping a good distance between himself and Vox. Alastor, sensing his hesitation, shrunk back to his normal form completely before standing slightly in front of the taller demon.

“What do you think?” She asked gently, her smile never wavering. “He’s hurt you the worst out of us.”

“I...” Angel trailed off, looking Vox in the eye for the first time since getting close. The overlord looked as broken as his screen was. “I was lucky enough ta have you all afta I realized what Val had been doin’ ta me. If I didn’t, I probably woulda ended up in a worse place. Vox is strong, obviously, but Val neva cared much ‘bout physical strength. He liked ta play with our minds. He broke our spirits and took advantage a that. No matta how strong ya are, no one could fight that after a while.”

“Why Val...” Vox whimpered. Angel’s chest burned. How many times had he asked himself the same question?

“I say give ‘im a chance.” He said, shocking not only Vox, but himself as well.

“Are you sure, my love? He is not someone to be trusted.” Alastor asked, his brows creasing. Angel offered him a smile and a nod.

“I know you can keep me safe,” he grinned, his golden tooth glinting in the red light. “And besides... I know what it feels like, to be fucked ova by Val. No one should hafra go through that.”

“You are far kinder tha I, dear.” Alastor sighed, still standing between Angel and Vox.

“Why don’t we go to my office, and we can discuss some things?” Charlie asked, holding a hand out to Vox. The overlord stared at it as if he was expecting it to turn into a blade and bury itself into his face. When it didn’t, he hesitantly reached out. “Alastor, would you join us?”

“I...” He paused, glancing at Angel.

“Go ‘elp th’ Princess out,” He gently nudged the deer’s arm. “I think I can manage an hour or two without ya.”

“In that case, I shall accompany you,” Alastor nodded towards Charlie and Vox. The others had come running up to them, including Niffty, who must have healed enough to come see what the damage was. He turned to Angel at the last moment and cupped his cheek, pulling the taller demon down to kiss him properly. Angel’s eyes flew open in shock before he closed them and leaned into the kiss. It only lasted a moment, but it was the best moment of Angel’s life. When was the last time someone kissed him and he hadn’t felt dirty after? “Shall we then? No need to keep our new resident waiting!”

Alastor paraded Charlie and Vox through the ruins that was once their front doors, leaving the rest of the staff wondering what the FUCK just happened.

“Are- are we really going to let this go?” Vaggie asked, her bow curling into a point. “He- he tried to kill you, Angel! He ripped your fucking arm off! He tried to kill all of us!”

“To be fair Toots, this is Hell,” Angel pointed out with a slight snicker. He could feel the blood matting his fur, but he could also tell all of his new wounds had healed already - The upside to such small cuts. “Everyone has a few attempted murders up their sleeves.”

“But-”

“Besides, Charlie’s whole thing is givin’ chances that no one else would give, right?”

“I mean, yeah but-”

“There ain’t a single fuckin’ soul in Hell that would give Vox a chance otha than Charlie.” he shrugged, as if that explained everything. Vaggie opened her mouth to argue when it suddenly hit her. She understood what Angel was implying.

Charlie was the only soul in Hell that would give Vox a second chance. Charlie was the only soul in Hell that would have bothered giving Angel a chance. He knows that without Charlie, he would be fucked - he realizes that he got the luck of the draw, but not everyone can get that kind of odds, Vox obviously didn’t, seeing how many centuries he was trapped thinking that Val cared about him. How many centuries Vox spent serving Val and not realizing he was getting nothing in return.

She had seen how broken the overlord had looked when he finally understood. She had seen how his eyes went blank and how his entire body seemed to shrink in on itself. He reminded her painfully of how Angel was, before he started getting better. Angel, who seemed to be wasting away both physically and emotionally right before their eyes and them not being able to do anything to help him.

Maybe by helping Vox, she could help the Angel that she hadn’t been able to before. Maybe she could make up for the mistakes she had made in the past.

“Let’s just go inside.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment. She was grateful that no one seemed too injured after their fight, but the adrenaline was still coursing through her blood.

It was shaping up to be a weird day.

* * *

“Didja get everythin’ settled?” Angel asked, seeing Alastor walking down the grand staircase towards where he was. He had a large broom in his hands, trying to gather as much as of the smaller debris into a neat pile. They were working on cleaning up the damage from the fight with Vox, but it seemed to be slow going.

“Mm, he shall be an... interesting addition to our roster.” Alastor grimaced a little.

“I’m surprised ‘e agreed at all,” Angel furrowed his eyebrows as he scooped some of the smashed material into a trash bag. It was going to take a fair while to rebuild everything properly, even with everyone working together. “Guess th’ surprises neva stop comin.”

“Quite,” Alastor hummed in agreement. He was still... uneasy. Despite how compliant and quiet Vox had been during their meeting, Alastor was still on edge - as if he was expecting the other overlord to snap at any second and try to kill them all again. “Where is everyone else?”

“Uh, Husk was takin’ summa th’ bigger pieces out ta th’ curb,” Angel squinted back towards the gap where the front door once was. “And Niffty went ta clean up. She wasn’t too hurt but cuz she’s so damn small she bled out a lot.”

“I’m glad to hear she is doing well,” Alastor fought back a wave of rage. Those under his power were also under his protection, and he wasn’t fond of his subordinates being played with by another. “But... What of you?”

“Eh?” Angel tilted his head to the side, lifting one eyebrow. “Me?”

“You were bleeding.” Alastor nodded his chin towards the long dried blood caking his fur.

“Oh, it ain’t that big a deal,” Angel laughed, the sound bouncing around the destroyed lobby. “Ain’t like I haven’t ‘ad worse.”

“Come, follow me.” Alastor said, walking back up the stairs. He didn’t hesitate, assuming that Angel would follow. Of course he was right, but Angel would never admit that he scrambled after the other demon.

They made their way back upstairs towards the spider’s room. Alastor let himself in, holding the door open for Angel, who puffed up a little as he let Alastor close them into the room gently. Fat Nuggets, thankfully safe and away from all the drama, came snuffling up to the two demons, oinking to get their attention.

“Hey there baby,” Angel cooed, scooping his son into his arms and pressing a noisy kiss to the top of their head. “Daddy has to go wash up, okay? Then I’ll get you something tasty, as a treat.”

Fat Nuggets chuffed happily at the promise, going over to his bed and burrowing into his blanket. Angel watched with a warm smile, once more thinking how lucky he was to have such a good kid.

“My dear, follow me?” Alastor said, bringing Angel’s attention to where he was entering the attached bathroom. Angel, not entirely sure where he was going with this, followed and let himself be pushed gently onto the closed toilet seat.

“What are ya doin’?” He asked, looking up at Alastor. The deer demon simply smiled down at him and snapped gloved fingers. As his shadow began to fill the bathtub, Alastor carefully unbuttoned the front of Angel’s blazer, his deft fingers making quick work of the garment. Angel winced as the fabric tugged against his fur, the blood fusing with the cloth to the point where Alastor had to rip the top off of his body.

“Sorry love,” Alastor whispered, his voice missing its usual static. “You’ll feel better once you’re clean.”

“You’re probably right,” Angel sighed, using his claws to rip his skirt away. He knew there was no saving his outfit, especially after the beating he received earlier that day. “I just... I’m so tired. I just wanna go ta bed.”

“Allow me to offer my assistance, dear one.” Alastor held a hand out. Angel took it, letting the other help him stand and gently lead him into the bathtub. The hot water burned his skin, but it was the kind of burn that made a near-sexual moan fall from his mouth as he slipped down up to his shoulders.

“Fuck Smiles, this feels like fuckin’ heaven,” Angel whimpered as the steam soaked into his bones. “I owe ya big time fa this.”

“No need!” He trilled, his grin widening. “Just this once, I shall do this without need for payment!”

“Ppft-” Angel snorted. He recalled all the times he offered to do things to Alastor with the same promise of a single free session. Alastor seemed to relax at the sound of Angel’s laugh, and the air of the bathroom seemed to lighten. Alastor snapped, his jacket disappearing and his sleeves rolling themselves up.

“May I?” Alastor asked, looking towards the conditioning shampoo sitting on the shelf by the tub. Angel felt a soft smile grow on his face and nodded. Alastor poured a generous amount of shampoo into his palm, lathering it up before gently carding it through Angel’s fur.

“Fuck...” Angel groaned, letting his eyes close as Alastor scrubbed the matted blood from the soft fur, rising it before shampooing it again - just to make sure he washed away every last hint of the crusting brown.

“How should I punish you?” Alastor said after a while of silence. Angel jerked, both from the shock of the sudden words but also from the connotations of the question.

“I’m sorry, what?” He choked, his fur puffing as much as it could while being soaking wet.

“I warned you not to scare me again,” Alastor didn’t stop running the soap along Angel’s body, his eyes focused directly on his task. In reality, he was nervous to look at the spider directly. “You were warned, yet you did it anyway... what should we do with you?”

“Oh...” Angel breathed softly, his shoulders slumping in realization. He watched Alastor work for a few moments, thinking about what his response was going to be. “Well... I guess it’s up ta you, seeing how you were th’ one I broke my promise ta.”

“I will have to think then,” Alastor paused, his hands burning hot against Angel’s damp skin. “We can’t have you breaking my heart like that again.”

“How could someone like me break ya heart?” Angel chuckled softly. “I ain’t somethin’ worth worrying ova...”

“You and I both know that is not true,” Alastor sat back on his heels a little, his usual smile nowhere to be seen. “It’s almost offensive how little you seem to care for yourself.”

“I don’t know whatcha mean Smiles.”

“Mon cher... you are more than you will ever see,” Alastor sighed, sounding as though he had been chastised for something. “It pains me that you cannot view yourself the way I do.”

“I’m just me,” Angel couldn’t understand what Alastor was trying to say. “I ain’t spec-”

“If you say you are not special one more time, I will make it so you cannot speak.”

“But-” Angel sat up a little, leaning slightly over the edge of the tub to look at Al for the first time since sliding into the bath. Before he could finish his interjection, Alastor leaned forward.

Angel let his eyes fall closed as Alastor kissed him gently. He found there were no words in existence that were more important than feeling Alastor humming against his lips and his damp fingers carding through the fur on the back of his head.

“Al...” Angel muttered into the kiss, and that was all it took for Alastor to growl and deepen the kiss, his teeth catching on Angel’s mouth. The taste of iron coated his tongue, but it just made the fire in Angel’s stomach burn brighter.

Claws dug into the base of Angel’s skull. He could feel his core warming as he leaned in more, wanting to know how Alastor could take care of him. He opened his mouth to let the other man explore his tongue more, only to feel himself slipping - quite literally. His wet fur did nothing to catch his fall as he slid down the tub, slamming his chin into the edge as his feet stuck up on the other side.

“FUCK-” He spat, blood filling his mouth as the gouge in his tongue began to knit itself back together.

“Are... are you alright, mon ange?” Alastor said with a slight hesitation. It took a moment for Angel to realize he was holding back his laughter at the spider’s fate.

“You’re just mockin’ me, ain’t ya?” He pouted, running his healing tongue along the top of his mouth, waiting for the flesh to be whole again so he could continue what they had been doing just moments before.

“Of course not, my love,” Alastor chuckled, his eyes turning up as his shoulders bounced a little. “I am truly remorseful for your... accident.”

“Why doncha kiss it betta?” Angel asked, batting his eyes at Alastor.

“Mm, since you asked so politely...” Alastor grinned before kissing the corner of Angel’s mouth gently before pulling away and finished rinsing the soap from the spider’s fur.

Angel pouted but let Alastor adjust him as he saw fit. Soon, the water was cold and tinged red while Angel was clean and blood free.

Without speaking, Alastor helped Angel back out of the tub and thoroughly dried him with one of the fluff towels from the shelf. Angel loved the attention, but he couldn’t ignore the uneasy feeling brewing in his stomach.

Why was Alastor being so kind to him? He was the reason Vox attacked them in the first place. Did he want something from Angel? It would make sense... Why else would the Radio Demon of all souls want to do something nice for someone like Angel?

“What’s on your mind?” Alastor asked, breaking the silence.

“Nothin’ important.” Angel offered a weak smile. Alastor steered them both back into the bedroom, pushing Angel down on the vanity chair. Angel grabbed his hairdryer and began to fluff his fur out, hoping the loud droning sound would be enough to make Alastor forget about whatever he was about to ask.

Alastor watched Angel work through the tangles in his fur, his arms working together to hold the dryer and the brush at the same time. He noticed how Angel would go to reach out with his fourth arm, only to realize it was still in the process of regenerating and switch to another arm to finish the task. It was clear Angel was frustrated with how long it was taking.

“All dry?” Alastor asked once Angel turned the hair dryer off.

“Yeah, lemme grab somethin’ ta change inta and-” Before he could finish, Alastor snapped his finger. Angel found he was suddenly wearing a silk nightgown in a bright, blood red.

“Is this to your liking?” Alastor’s grin widened at the shocked look on the other’s face.

“Wh- Al, where did ya get this?” he asked, his fingers tracing the black lace along the hems. It was gorgeous, and VERY clearly worth more than just about anything in Angel’s collection of clothing.

“Who knows!” Alastor threw his head back and laughed dramatically, his laugh track backing him up. Angel couldn’t hold back a chuckle of his own, his eyes softening at the sight before him. Alastor’s laughter tapered off until he was looking at Angel with a contemplative expression. “Though I must say... red is absolutely ravishing on you.”

“Ya think?” Angel turned to look at himself in the vanity mirror. “Th’ family’s color was always blue, and when I got ta Hell I wanted ta look pretty so I always went with pink... ya don’t think red clashes with my fur?”

He turned to look at Alastor, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. Alastor realized that Angel truly was concerned that the red of the slip wouldn’t look good against the pale cream and pinks of his coloring. The thought made him scoff.

“My dear, you could wear anything and pull it off splendidly.” He said, his grin going a little lopsided as he watched Angel’s fluff puff up on his face and chest.

“Hey Al....?” Angel said after a moment of silence. Alastor hummed, acknowledging the question. Angel rubbed his upper hands along his arms, as if he were suddenly freezing in his own room. “What... why are ya doin’ this?”

“Pardon?” Alastor blinked, his smile frozen on his face.

“I know ya don’t do th’ whole sex thing, but there’s gotta be somethin’ else ya want from me, right?” His shoulders hunched slightly. “No one does nice things fa me unless they want somethin’... whateva it is, I’ll do my best, aight? I owe you afta everythin’.”

“Do you honestly believe I’m doing this because I wish for you to owe me?” Alastor bristled a little, not sure why the accusation rubbed him so wrong.

“Why else would ya do it?” Angel’s voice was too open - too genuine. It made Alastor’s throat sting.

“Because you are deserving of good things,” He all but snapped. “You are deserving of friends and a safe place to live without fear for your physical safety. You are not whatever it is Valentino has convinced you that you are.”

“But-” His eyes were wide. Alastor could see how his iris’ were trembling slightly.

“Now, my lovely little spider,” His grin curled in a way that was somehow both threatening and thrilling. Angel felt himself grow warm at the sight. “What should we do?”

“Uh...” He had many, MANY things he wanted to say - all of which ended with Angel getting his brains fucked clean out of his head - but he refrained.

“Remember, mon ange,” Alastor reached out and caressed Angel’s cheek gently. “You do not owe me anything. I am doing this because I want to, not because I want you to offer yourself to me against your will.”

“What if it ain’t against my will?” Angel whispered, leaning into Alastor’s palm. He felt the shorter demon tense for a moment before his thumb began to run along the fur just below his right eye.

“Well, that is something we would have to talk over beforehand,” He said casually, but there was a current of... something else underneath. Angel must have made a face, because Al huffed a smile before patting the spider’s cheek. “I am not Valentino, my love. I will not take anything from you that you are not willing to give.”

“Oh...” Angel knew this, of course. Out of everyone he had met in Hell, Alastor was one of the only demons stronger than him that he trusted. He knew, partially at least, that Al wouldn’t force him into anything. He knew, but hearing it come from Alastor’s own mouth made the situation much more real.

“Now, I recall you mentioning a while back that you wanted to declutter your closet!” Al clapped his hands, his jacket reappearing. Angel was pleased to note his hair was still pulled into a small ponytail at the base of his neck. “Shall we?”

“You’d wanna watch me go through my clothes?” Angel raised an eyebrow. Not even Cherri would willingly do that, because she knew what an endeavor it became - especially once Angel started trying everything on to decide if he wanted to keep it. Molly might have, if Angel asked, but he never had.

“You are a born performer, my dear!” Alastor’s radio voice spiked. “I know you’ll find a way to make it entertaining for us both!”

“Well, when ya put it that way...” Angel snickered before going over to his closet. He tugged on one of the handles, only for the door to fly open from how stuffed it was. Fat Nuggets, wanting to feel included, ran over and hopped into the bottom of the closet, peeking up at their dad from under the hems of some of the longer dresses.

No one heard from Angel or Alastor for several hours, and even knowing the Radio Demon’s feelings towards sex, they steered clear from Angel’s room.

Just in case.

* * *

  
Angel shot up in his bed, sweat making his fur stick to his skin. It had been a minute since he last had a nightmare that graphic, which only made it hit that much harder. He shook as he wrapped his arms around him, all four hands digging into his fur tightly.

He resisted the urge to dig his claws into his skin - to draw blood and make the pounding in his chest and head calm. Alastor had made him promise to take better care of himself, which included his little self harm issue. According to Charlie, the need for pain was just as much of an addiction as PCP or alcohol, and that Angel wasn’t weak for developing a dependency on it despite his own views of himself.

She gave him a few tips on how to cope, including writing in his journal whenever he felt the urge. She had even gotten him a set of paint markers - how she found something from the surface was beyond him, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth - and he used them to decorate the front of the journal and doodle on the pages. Drawing out his feelings and adding color helped more than he thought it would.

Fat Nuggets snored lightly in their bed, not phased in the slightest by the panting coming from atop the larger mattress. Angel took a deep breath, counting to calm the pounding in his chest.

It was clear after a few minutes of this that he was not going back to sleep anytime soon.

“Fuck...” he breathed, running a hand down his face. It had been one of the more graphic nightmares he’s had, where both Vox and Valentino attack the hotel and rip everybody limb from limb while forcing Angel to watch. The worst part was Alastor. He cried in the dream the same way Vox’s fake recording sounded - the one that lured Angel to the gardens, only to have his arm ripped completely off.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Angel stood and grabbed the robe hanging on the door of his wardrobe. It was more modest than some of the things he would normally wear, but it was special to him.

All the articles of clothing that just happened to be a very particular shade of red were special to him.

Securing the tie around his waist, Angel made his way out of his room. If he was going to be awake, he might as well do something. He still had a few of the books Alastor had lent him at the beginning of his two week vacation that he had yet to finish, and there was a recipe he had found that seemed interesting.

He heard other voices coming from the parlor, which surprised him. He assumed everyone would be asleep by now, but it seemed he wasn’t the only one who was having trouble getting any rest. Poking his head in, he saw Husk’s tail curling over the armrest of the couch and a set of familiar red ears sticking up over the back. They were talking, but their voices were too low for Angel to make out what they were saying. The green fire was crackling happily in the fireplace, illuminating the room and casting dancing shadows on the walls. Just as Angel was about to walk away and leave them be, a voice rang out.

“Nightmare?” Alastor said, suddenly much louder than before. Angel swore under his breath as he jumped, not thinking either of them had known he was in the doorway.

“Mm.” He hummed, stepping forward. There was no point lingering when he had been found out.

“Come sit with us, sha.” His words were soft and warm, making Angel think of honey.

He walked around and saw Alastor sitting in the middle of the couch with Husk’s head resting on his lap. Husk stared blankly into the fire and Angel recognized the look in the cat’s eyes - he was having flashbacks to his time in the war again. Alastor, one hand carding through Husk’s fur, used his other to pat the cushion next to him for Angel to sit.

Angel sat and tucked his long legs under himself. His eyes were heavy, but every time he closed them all he could see was the lobby painted crimson and the bodies of his new family strewn across the carnage like macabre confetti. Alastor slipped his arm over Angel’s shoulder, tugging the spider down to rest his head on his shoulder. Angel sighed, Alastor’s familiar comfort making his own body relax.

No one spoke for a while. Angel began to feel himself drifting off, nuzzling his face into the crook of Alastor’s neck as he leaned more into the deer’s side. Alastor didn’t seem to mind but rather adjusted himself so Angel and Husk would be more comfortable. He had no idea when he managed to fall asleep, but when he woke up he was still leaning against Alastor’s warmth. Husk was nowhere to be seen, and Al’s hand - the one not on Angel’s shoulder - was holding a book.

Light was just beginning to creep into the parlor, which meant it was still early in the morning. Niffty would probably be awake, but the others wouldn’t start filtering down towards the kitchens for another hour or so.

“Feel better?” Alastor asked, not looking up from his book.

“Yeah,” Angel yawned, covering his mouth with one hand. “Sorry fa fallin’ asleep on ya like that. No way that was comfortable for ya-” He tried to sit up, only to find himself being pulled back into Alastor’s chest.

“No need to get up now,” He said casually, but Angel could see the faint blush on the bridge of his nose. “Stay a little longer.”

“Well, ‘ow can I say no ta that?” Angel chuckled, turning so he could properly curl around the other’s body. He wrapped one set of arms around Al’s neck and the other around his waist, letting his legs rest over the deer’s lap. It was the most comfortable Angel had been in a long time, and he teared up a little as Alastor began to hum softly. He didn’t fall back to sleep, but he let his eyes rest as he listened to the music filtering through the air.

If he heard someone snapping a picture, Angel didn’t say anything. He did, however, make a note to ask Charlie for a copy of it though.

* * *

Angel snarled, his reflection snarling back at him. He woke up feeling off, and he had no idea why. It had been almost a month since the fight with Vox, and the overlord had done very well with keeping up with Charlie’s rules. No one - other than Charlie, Niffty or Alastor - had seen hide nor wire of Vox, and it was as if he wasn’t even there to begin with.

Angel locked himself up in his room after asking Niffty to take Fat Nuggets out to the gardens. She had made them a little pen for them to run around without needing to be watched all the time, and Angel was grateful for the break.

His reflection looked bad - his eyeliner was streaked and his eyes were burning. He had tried to do his makeup to make himself feel less like a stranger in his own skin, but it only served to make the demon looking back at him less recognizable. Angel growled, watching the other spider’s fur bristle.

“Pathetic,” He spat, his claws digging gouges into the top of the vanity. “You’re fuckin’ worthless. Stupid- stupid fuckin’ slut... you think they like ya? Are you that fuckin’ delusional?”

His reflection just took the abuse, staring back at him. Angel felt a shot of anger go through his blood.

“Who do ya think ya are? Huh?” he leaned forward, his face almost touching the cool mirror surface. “I fuckin’ hate you... they all do. They all fuckin’ hate you.”

“That’s preposterous!” Alastor thrilled, making Angel jump a foot in the air. Almost falling off the vanity stool, Angel just managed to catch himself before becoming a pile on the floor. He scowled over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes at the intruder.

“Th’ fuck are ya doin’?” He snapped, scrubbing the drying eyeliner from his fur, only making the black smears worse.

“A little birdie told me someone was feeling down!” Alastor grinned, his shadow turning into a large black bird - Angel wanted to say a raven but he wasn’t sure. Alastor played his laugh track as he gave the shadow corvid a pat on the head. It cawed before spreading its wings and dove into the ground, turning back into an Alastor shaped blob.

“I’m fine.” Angel righted himself on the chair. He stared at himself in the mirror, pointedly ignoring Alastor who was looking at him through the reflection.

“Smile, my dear,” Alastor’s grin softened. “You’re never fully dressed without-”

“Shut up!” Angel spun around, slamming his hand on the vanity. Alastor blinked, his jaw clicking as he closed his mouth quickly. “Why are ya even ‘ere!? I didn’t ask for ya to fuckin’ babysit me!”

“Cher, I-”

“No,” Angel’s voice cracked, embarrassment making his throat sting as tears rolled down his cheeks again. The tears from before had just dried, and now he was replacing them with angry waterworks. “No I don’t wanna ‘ear it! I’m sick ‘n tired a being so damn needy all th’ time! I ‘ate it! I ‘ate myself...”

He trailed off, looking back at himself. He wiped his eyes with the meat of his palm, smearing the black eyeliner across his fur. He couldn’t look at his reflection for more than a single second before his snarl was back.

“Fuckin’ awful...” he growled, eyes narrowing at himself. “Why does anyone even care ‘bout me? It’s a fuckin’ waste a goddamn time. I’m a waste a fuckin’ time!”

“That’s not true,” Alastor’s voice hardened, his smile dropping completely. “You are being far too hard on yourself-”

“Maybe you’re bein’ too damn nice!” Angel shouted, the need to scream building in his throat, choking him. “I can’t- I can’t stand it!”

He whirled around and slammed his fist into the mirror, his reflection shattering at the glass fell away. He panted heavily, his eye wide and unseeing as the pain in his hand sent a shock through his system. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart in his ears and the faint crunching of glass as Alastor stepped forward.

“Give me your hand, sha.” Alastor said softly, his static feedback almost completely nonexistent. Angel didn’t move, but he didn’t fight it as Alastor took his fist from the bare frame of the broken mirror. Blood dripped down the wood that held the glass in place, creating a morbid painting.

Alastor brought out his handkerchief and began dabbing the blood away from Angel’s knuckles before carefully pulling pieces of glass out with the tips of his claws. Angel didn’t flinch, the only sign that he was still consciously there were the small whimpers that slipped out every few seconds. Al brought Angel’s hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the spider’s inner wrist. When he didn’t get a reaction, he shot his tongue out and lapped at the blood that had clung to the fur even after he had wiped it away. A shiver went through Angel, the feeling of Alastor’s tongue on his skin making his breath catch in his throat.

“There, all clean,” Alastor said, licking his lips and smirking at Angel, who blinked and finally managed to look Al in the eye. “Better?”

“Mm, sorry,” Angel whispered, not taking his hand back from Al’s grip. “I don’t know what came ova me...”

“You are not weak for having a bad day,” Alastor said, pressing a barely there kiss to the corner of Angel’s mouth. Angel sucked in a sharp breath at the taste of his own blood on Alastor’s lips. “And you are none of the things you say you are.”

“Don’t matta.” Angel looked away. His shoulders slumped and he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his bed and sleep for a few days.

It wasn’t fair. He had been doing so well - he hadn’t been blackout drunk in months, and had been off PCP for even longer. He didn’t rely on sex to make him forget about his problems. He had been shocked when Charlie explained how hyper-sexuality could be a form of self harm but the more she spoke the more sense she made. He hadn’t slept with anyone since before he ran out on Val, which led to the fateful fight in front of the hotel. He could barely even touch himself because every time he tried, he couldn’t help but feel like he was failing - that he was relapsing and fucking everything up. He hadn’t been able to finish the job anytime he tried because he was disgusted by his own reactions.

“You aren’t a failure, mon ange,” Alastor broke Angel from his thoughts. A hand ran through the fur on the back of his head and it made his head go blank - all he wanted to focus on was Alastor’s claws gently scraping against his scalp. “You aren’t the things you say about yourself either. What you said couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

“I hate this,” Angel growled, but it was so weak that it sounded more like a whimper. “I was fine yesterday. Why is today such shit?”

“These things take time, sha,” Alastor pressed a kiss to Angel’s forehead. “Expecting to be better instantly is unreasonable.”

“That’s stupid n’ I ‘ate it.” Angel muttered, looking to the side.

“Yes, well things will be different tomorrow.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know tomorrow won’t be today, therefore there is the opportunity to be changed.”

“I mean, I guess.” Angel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I have a splendid idea!” Alastor said brightly, pulling Angel into a sideways embrace. He swung his hand out, as if painting a picture with the motion. “You, mon cher, and I - why don’t we see who we can pull the wool over?”

“Huh?” Angel raised a single brow, the numbness in his chest lightning.

“Charlotte was kind enough to show me a short ‘clip’ on her phone,” He grinned, grabbing Angel’s hand and tugging him towards the door. “They placed a flower on a feline’s head and their reaction was simply priceless! I believe Husker would be the perfect target for our shenanigans!”

“He’ll kill us.” Angel laughed, trying to picture the cat’s retaliations to being pranked.

“He cannot harm me,” Alastor waved off Angel’s concerns. “And I will not allow him to lay a finger on you, my dear.”

“My hero.” Angel chuckled, his chest fluff puffing up as warmth blossomed in his chest.

“Also, Charlotte has been speaking to me about bringing Vox into more group activities,” Alastor started, rattling on to keep Angel’s thoughts away from what he was just feeling, and the spider appreciated it more than he thought Al realized. “I know she is hesitant, but I do believe it’ll be quite the show! Much to my surprise, Vox seems to be taking this seriously so I look forward to seeing how this all plays out.”

Angel tried to stifle his snickers as they stalked up to Husk, who was standing at the front desk completely oblivious to what was about to befall him. Alastor conjured a flower from a shadow and held it up to Angel’s face. Angel inhaled, his eyes widening at how sweet it smelled. Al smiled softly and tucked it in Angel’s fluff before summoning a second one for their prank.

Angel grinned, his golden tooth shining in the light as they snuck along the walls. He knew Al could easily walk through his shadow, but it was clear the deer demon was doing this specifically for Angel’s sake. Niffty saw them sneaking around and Angel held a finger up to his grin, telling her to stay quiet. She glanced between them and Husk, still unaware of his soon to be fate. She giggled into her hand nodded before scurrying away.

Angel followed behind Alastor. It was going to be a weird day, he knew, and it was going to be a weird next couple of days as well because it would take some time to get over this slump he had woken up in, but the realization that he wasn’t going to be alone made it seem less intimidating. He didn’t have to ride it out isolated in his room like he had his first detox - he was allowed to find Charlie when he was sad, or Vaggie when he didn’t know how to express what he was feeling, or to Husk if he wanted to rant, or to Niffty to cook and forget about things for a while, or to Alastor whenever he wanted to feel like he was worth the effort or needed to have someone hold him without prying into his mind.

He watched Alastor sneak up on Husk and daintily plop the flower onto the top of his head. Husk instantly froze, his head pulling back as his eyes widened. Angel couldn’t help but cackle, falling to the ground as he laughed. He could feel tears in his eyes, but this time it was from the chest crushing wheezes that were keeping him down.

He felt someone take his hand and help him to his feet. Looking over, he saw Alastor grinning out at the chaos he had caused, not seeming to acknowledge that he was now lacing their fingers together firmly. They stood together, shoulders touching, as they watched the daily chaos of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betcha didn't see that fight coming! I read a fic that focused completely on how Val physically and emotionally abused/manipulated Vox and how Velvet was helping Vox escape and it made me empathize with the tv man :') On a completely unrelated note, I've been having a lot of fun going through Vox fanart :3
> 
> Anyway, that's a wrap! I can't believe it's over :( I'm so happy I went crazy with fic and just kept writing it because I'm so happy with how this came out, especially for it being the first HH I've ever written!
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting and giving me motivation to update as soon as possible. I have another radiodust oneshot in mind (two-shot at most) that I'm probably going to start next week! I want to finish the MDZS fics that I've left open, so it's going to be weird getting not only back to a different fandom, but also for two college aus too XD 
> 
> I thought my hyperfixation on HH would chill out after a week or two but surprise! It's barely weened much at all XD I just love the content in this fandom so much. It's almost as good as MDZS for the sheer quantity of angst fics that I do so enjoy XD


	10. The Aftermath

Angel looked at his cards, trying his best to keep his face as neutral as possible. Husk was glancing between the spider and Alastor, who had his usual easy going smile painted on his face, casual as can be.

“Don’t you fuckin’ do it.” Husk growled, narrowing his eyes. Alastor’s grin only widened, his eyebrows raising at the challenge.

“Draw four.” Alastor said slowly, placing the Uno card on the top of the pile. Instantly the room exploded. Husk screamed and threw his cards down, absolutely fucking done with what was supposed to be a calm, friendly game of Uno. Of course, within ten minutes it had devolved into alliances and treaties to get others out and animosities born from using a skip or a plus four card. Charlie, watching the steady decline of her game night, hoped there would be no hard feelings afterwards.

“How does he keep getting the draw fours?” Vaggie ran a hand down her face. It seemed that Alastor kept pulling them out of thin air just in time to absolutely destroy whoever was next and by whoever was next, it specifically meant Husk because Husk was to Al’s left and they were going around the circle clockwise.

“This is why you shoulda let me host a real poker night,” Husk grumbled, his ears pressing down against his head. “At least I’m good at that one.”

“But you cheat!” Niffty called him out with a huff.

“What?” His wings fluttered in betrayal. “I do not!”

“Do too!”

“Mon Ange, how are you doing?” Alastor asked Angel, who had been fairly quiet through the entire night.

“Good,” He offered the shorter demon a small smile. “Just a lil’ tired I think.”

“Would you like to retire for the evening?”

“I don’t wanna make Charlie worry,” Angel sighed. Though it had been months since the fight with Vox - three, to be exact - he still felt as though he... didn’t belong. That he was a danger to the hotel. That they were just pretending to like him. “I’m fine.”

“Well I’m feeling rather tired,” Alastor said loudly, so the others would be able to hear. “I think I shall end my evening here.”

“Oh, goodnight Al!” Charlie called over to him. She was on the other side of the room, trying to keep some distance between Niffty and Husk, who were about to engage in a slightly less than friendly scuffle.

“In that case I guess I’ll be a propa gentleman and walk ya to ya room.” Angel laughed, holding his arm out. Alastor’s grin softened, as it tended to do when he was looking at Angel - or talking to Angel, or talking about Angel, or thinking about Angel.

“Why thank you.” Alastor took Angel’s arm loosely. While they had been... Angel hesitated to use the term dating, because they hadn’t labeled anything yet but they still spent time alone together and got dinner together and kissed in such a soft, gentle was that it made his stomach twist - but in the time that they were getting closer, Alastor had yet to completely let the spider into his personal space. Sometimes he could hold Angel for hours without an issue and some days even holding Angel’s hand set him on edge.

Angel did everything he could to respect Alastor’s boundaries. After all, he knew better than most what it was like to have his violated. There were also times where Angel couldn’t stand to be touched, the flashes of client’s hands on his fur making him sick anytime someone brushed against him. Alastor was mindful of those times, doing everything in his power to make sure Angel was as comfortable as possible.

They walked up the stairs, letting the sounds of the conversations fade. Angel hummed along with whatever song was playing in the background of Alastor’s perpetual static, the notes blending together perfectly.

“Do ya wanna stay with me?” Angel offered, knowing that Alastor found it easier to sleep in Angel’s bed because it was bigger and softer than his own.

“Mm, not tonight my dear but I appreciate the offer,” Alastor’s static dropped, letting his natural voice bleed through. Angel loved Alastor’s accent - it made his chest warm knowing that the other demon trusted him with that part of himself. “Why don’t we make plans for supper tomorrow? I believe it’s my turn to cook?”

“Ya keep treatin’ me like this ‘n I might get spoiled.” Angel chuckled warmly.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Alastor teased back. It was still strange, seeing the feared Radio Demon being so... soft with him. Alastor had told him how much it scared him to be so vulnerable but being constantly reminded that Alastor had feelings for him - for Angel, the ex-pornstar! - of all people still baffled him.

Part of him still expected all of this to be a dream - that he would wake up to messages and missed calls from Val. That Molly coming weekly for dinner would just stop. That Alastor would go back to being cold and distant...

As much as he thought it was a dream, there was enough proof to remind him otherwise, like the ache in his arm whenever the weather changed. Sure it grew back completely, but it was a little weaker than his other arms and would throb in time with Angel’s heart at random times. Like the chaos that was all over the news about Valentino having disappeared out of nowhere three months prior, leaving the Lust District unsupervised. Like how he still felt phantom withdrawals, where out of nowhere he would start to shake and sweat and feel like he was going to throw up.

“Goodnight, my dear.” Alastor pressed a light kiss to the back of Angel’s hand. Some nights he would give Angel a proper kiss, but on nights like this he was content to give something softer.

“Night Smiles.” Angel kissed two of his fingers and tapped them against Alastor’s bottom lip. Alastor’s eyes widened for a split second. It seemed he was still getting used to the idea that Angel was also putting effort into considering his boundaries, and that the spider was getting better and better at reading his body language than he realized.

Alastor stepped through his shadow, leaving Angel alone in front of his bedroom. As he turned to unlock the door, he paused. He could have sworn he heard rustling, but he was the only person on this particular floor of the hotel. Charlie had done that on purpose, moving him to a larger, more secluded room as soon as patrons started to come in. She wanted to keep him safe, especially while he was still active in the porn industry, and Angel found he couldn’t argue with her logic.

So hearing rustling wasn’t all that usual. He knew what Niffty’s particular brand of scuffling sounded like, and he knew for a fact she was still down in the parlor. Looking down the hallway, he couldn’t even see the end through the darkness of the evening. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw something moving in the shadow, but when he looked directly at it, there was nothing there.

“Al?” He called out, hesitation coloring his words. He didn’t think Alastor would hide his shadow from him like that, seeing how Angel and Alastor’s shadow had been getting along like fire and gasoline much to the horror of everyone in the hotel. He hadn’t expected it to have such a distinct personality, but it was more of a person than half the demons Angel had slept with over the years. It’s gotten to the point where it’ll come to visit Angel while Alastor is doing something else to keep the spider company all on it’s own volition.

When no response came, Angel shrugged and opened his door. He didn’t notice the faint sparks lighting up the darkness for just a moment.

“Hey there Nuggs,” Angel grinned. “Ya been a good baby fa me?”

Fat Nuggets chuffed happily, their spots glowing as they always did whenever Angel came home, even if he was only gone for a few minutes. They rolled onto their side, exposing their belly for exactly one reason.

Angel laughed as he crouched down, rubbing Nugget’s stomach gently. After a few moments, Fat Nuggets rolled back over and waddled over to their bed, grabbing their favorite blanket.

“Let Daddy get ready fa bed and we can go ta sleep, aight baby?” Angel grinned when the pig seemed to nod. They climbed up the small ramp Charlie had installed next to the mattress and settled up near the pillows, not closing their eyes but getting comfortable.

It took him all of fifteen minutes to wash his face, brush his teeth and do his nighttime routine, but when he came back out instead of seeing Fat Nuggets sleeping as they normally were when he was ready to sleep, they were sitting up looking at the door, their spots glowing bright in concentration.

“Is... someone out there Nuggs?” Angel asked, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach, but there was no response. Not from Fat Nuggets, or from whoever - or whatever - was outside his door.

Against what was probably his better judgement, instead of making sure he was safe Angel just shoved his vanity chair under the door handle and crawled under his covers. If anyone wanted to get in, they wouldn’t be able to do shit without Angel waking up. The only person who would be able to sneak past was Alastor, and Angel had no problems with the other demon visiting unannounced.

“Let’s just go to sleep.” Angel whispered, the current of anxiety still running under his skin like a live wire. While he knew he was safe at the hotel, he couldn’t repress everything that scared him.

He knew Vox was still under the same roof as him, and even though Angel himself was the one who said it was alright for the overlord to be checked in, he couldn’t stop tremors from shaking his frame at the thought of the television demon. No one had seen pixel nor wire of Vox since Charlie and Alastor walked him to the Princess’ office, but that didn’t squash the whispers that slunk through the patrons.

He also had a bad feeling about Valentino. Yes, Alastor ripped the other overlord into tiny pieces and left him to rot in the basement of the Radio Tower. Yes, no one had heard from Val since that day, most just assuming he fucked off for whatever reason, leaving his seat unclaimed. Somehow someone managed to keep news of the fight in front of the hotel - both of them, it seems, though the one with Vox managed to slip out a little - so no one really thought the Hazbin Hotel was to blame for anything. Of course, there were always those conspiracy theorists who believe everything is connected to anything, but no one let those individuals know that they were closer to the truth than anyone else.

Yes, he knew Val was gone, so why was he so uneasy?

Angel closed his eyes. He had his one on one session with Charlie in the morning, so maybe he would bring this shit up with her. Or not. He was still wary about the whole therapy thing, but he wanted to at least try - for her sake, if not his own.

He didn’t notice the soft pink lights from the vanity - which Angel tended to always leave on, as a comfort - flicker ever so slightly.

* * *

  
A fair distance from the hotel, a figure slunk through the streets. They were tall, but hunched over as if scared of being seen. They made their way through the backdoor of a huge, brightly lit building as casually as though they owned everything there.

Making their way to the elevator, the demon hugged their waist with their bottom set of arms. They were thankful no one was awake at this hour.

Their thanks quickly turned to expletives as someone turned the corner at the last second, bumping directly into them.

“What where you’re going fuckass-” The cat demon tried to dab the spilled coffee from her blouse, her pretty face twisted in irritation. It was clear she had just finished her shift from the smudged makeup and the cloying scent of latex that clung to her. She looked up, only to freeze. The taller demon watched her fur stand on end as her pupils thinned into slits. “I-I’m s-so sorry s-sir! Please-please forgive me!”

The taller demon just looked down at her, their eyes impassive. She only began to tremble harder the longer she was met with silence. Just as she was about to accept her second death, the taller demon placed a hand on the top of her head. Her shaking stopped out of pure surprise, which was enough for them to take their hand back.

“Do you know if Vox has been here?” They asked, their voice rough, as if they hadn’t spoken properly in a long time.

“N-no sir,” She kept her eyes on the ground. “He hasn’t been seen since...

“Since?”

“Since he tried attacking the Happy Hotel,” She squeaked, closing her eyes tightly. When no impact came, she continued. “No one knows why he attacked them, but apparently he followed them inside and no one’s seen him since.”

“I see...”

“I-is there anything else you needed, sir?’

“No, you can go,” They said without any fire behind their words. “Rest before your next shift.”

“Of course...” She blinked. “Thank you, Mister Valentino.”

Valentino nodded to the girl, who scurried away. He made his way up to his office, his limbs heavy and head fuzzy. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed between the Radio Demon killing him and his body finally healing itself enough to run back to the studio with his tail between his legs. He collapsed onto one of the heart-shaped love seats. He would deal with the chaos of his territory in the morning.

For the time being, Valentino slept.

* * *

  
Angel sat up in a cold sweat. Fat Nuggets continued to snore, unbothered by their Dad’s sudden movement. He gasped for breath, desperately wishing Alastor had agreed to stay the night with him.

He had been doing better with his nightmares, but sometimes they slipped through his progress and left his heart racing painfully. He gripped his arms tightly, digging his claws against his skin just enough to feel the pain but not hard enough to draw blood. It had been a month and a half since he last hurt himself and he didn’t want to disappoint Al or Charlie. Sure, they assured him there was nothing to be ashamed of in relapsing, because it meant he was making progress, but it didn’t stop the little voice in his head saying he was failing everyone.

Water. That’s what he needed. Something to wash the sour taste off the back of his tongue. He slipped out of bed, being careful not to disturb the sleeping pig, and pulled the chair out from under the knob. He didn’t bother putting on anything over his slip, and ever since he had broken his ribs, he found he was way less self conscious of his feet so he didn’t waste time digging through his closet for his slippers.

As he walked, he couldn’t help but remember his dream.

_The hotel was destroyed, fires popping up everywhere. Angel watched people run out of the building, screaming and tripping. He felt his horror mounting as maniacal laughter filled the air, drowning out the crackling flames and pained screams. Angel would know that laugh anywhere, and it was that fact that made him choke._

_Alastor stood in front of the hotel, but it wasn’t the Alastor that Angel had fallen for. This one was the same height, with the same face but large antlers and pure black eyes. He laughed and laughed, his neck cracking unnaturally to the side. A demon ran past, but was instantly killed by a black shadow tentacle spearing them directly through their torso. Alastor grinned wider as he brought the corpse closer to him._

_Angel watched Alastor bite directly into the demon’s neck, ripping their throat out with his sharp teeth. Blood ran down his jaw as he ate the demon, no regard for how they garbled and whimpered as they slowly, painfully died._

_“Angel look out!” Charlie screamed. A black tentacle went shooting past Angel’s head, slamming the Princess square in the chest. It didn’t impale her, but it sent her huryling backwards into the ruined chunk of brick that was once a wall._

_“Charlie!” Angel couldn’t believe it. Alastor - his Alastor - had finally snapped. He couldn’t remember what had been the final straw, but whatever it was must have been enough to turn their Smiles into the dreaded Radio Demon._

_He understood why Vaggie had been so scared on that first day._

_“You know what you have to do.” Vaggie said by Angel’s left. When had she gotten there?_

_“I can’t...” Tears ran down his cheeks, but he wasn’t sure what parts of the wetness was tears and what was blood. “I-I can’t-”_

_“If you don’t do it, he’ll kill us all,” She growled. When did her spear appear? She shoved it into his hands. “You’re the only one who can get close to him.”_

_He had been the only one who was able to get close to Alastor on so many levels. The first to be allowed to touch Alastor without the shorter demon flinching. The first to see the inside of Alastor’s bedroom, outside of Husk and Niffty. The first outsider to be brought into the Radio Tower. The first guest on Alastor’s broadcasts that left alive. The first person Alastor ever looked at with such fondness in his eyes._

_And now..._

_“Don’t let him do this anymore...” Husk whispered. His eyes glowed yellow, sparks seeming to fly from them, but he was injured - bent over and bleeding, his teeth stained red and claws dripping with shreds of flesh. His left wing was spread out, the feathers charred and bloodied, but his right wing hung down. It was all but stripped of the feathers, nothing left but the line of muscle at the top with remnants of plumage sticking to the carnage. “Don’t make him go through this.”_

_Angel gripped the spear, the handle digging into his palms. He knew he had to do it but fuck he wished he didn’t. Alastor threw what was left of the demon’s corpse to the side, though it was more of a pile of flesh than a corpse at this point. Angel sobbed as he readied himself._

_“I’m sorry.” he whispered._

_He charged._

_Angel had always been partial to distance weapons for a reason. It was less personal, though that was exact;y why Alastor preferred knives to guns. It was less personal to shoot someone from a distance, because you could watch the light fade from their eyes but you didn’t have to physically feel them dying._

_As the spear slid through Alastor’s chest, Angel could feel the flesh giving to the holy weapon. He could feel Alastor’s organs rip as the blade burst through his back. Blood, hot and thick, soaked through Alastor’s jacket and into Angel’s._

_Angel could feel Alastor’s heartbeat against his own chest, the steady thumping growing weaker and weaker by the second._

_“Oh,” Alastor said, the static behind his voice nowhere to be heard. “I see...”_

_Angel felt arms wrap around his neck. He broke, sobbing into Alastor’s shoulder one last time._

_“I’m so-”_

_“Don’t apologize, mon ange,” Alastor’s words were tight. “You did what you had to d-do.”_

_Angel wrapped all four arms around Alastor, pressing himself as close as possible. He didn’t want Alastor to die, but there was no way for anyone to survive a holy spear through the heart - not even an overlord like Al._

_“Please don’t go...”_

_“I love you, mon cher.” Alastor cupped Angel’s cheek. Blood trickled down his mouth as the black of his eyes faded to the red that Angel had come to adore. He pulled Angel closer and kissed him gently, the taste of iron so strong it made Angel’s stomach turn._

_Then Alastor went limp. His head lolled to the side, only standing because of the spear through his chest and Angel’s arms around him._

_“Al?” Angel’s world stopped. Alastor didn’t move. There was no steady thumping in his chest anymore. Angel had stolen his heart one last time. “AL? ALASTOR-”_

Angel bit his knuckle to hold back a sob. His own scream of agony was what woke him, the feeling of Alastor’s body going limp so visceral that he could still feel the weight of it in his arms. The taste of blood filled his mouth from how hard he was biting his hand, which only served to remind him of the kiss from his dream.

He was glad he had made it to the kitchen by that point, because he instantly darted to the sink and retched into it, throwing up what little he had in his stomach. The sound of the bile splattering in the empty sink seemed to echo in the absolutely silent kitchen.

His heavy breathing seemed to bounce as he choked back another sob. Water. That’s what he was there for. Water.

He went to the fridge and grabbed a water bottle, twisting the cap off and downing half of it in one go. The ice cold in his stomach made him feel a little sick, but he’d rather feel ill from that, rather than from the images left over from his dream. Angel closed the fridge and sipped from the bottle slower now, the kitchen only illuminated by the blinking lights of the appliances. He would finish the bottle and go back to his room. He might be able to get a few more hours of sleep in. If not, he can work through some more of the book he was reading.

The lights burst to life, causing Angel to choke on his water in shock. As he doubled over, hacking, he saw a figure from the corner of his eye.

“J-Jesus f-fuckin’ Christ,” He gasped, trying to breathe property and not doing a good job of it. “Warn a gal first-”

Angel froze. He stared at the demon who entered the kitchen, their eyes locked in a standstill.

Vox’s finger was still on the kitchen light switch, his shoulders drawn up around his neck in surprise. His screen was long healed, not a scratch to be seen from the last time he and Angel were face to face. He looked different though. He was wearing regular clothes, rather than the stuffy suits he and Val always wore - flannel sleep pants and a zip up hoodie. Angel could see grey skin peeking through the part of the zipper that was pulled down, which meant he wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath.

“Uh...”

“Hello... Angel...” Vox’s face shrunk, leaving too much negative space on the edges of the screen to look normal. Angel wondered if it was a subconscious thing to do, of it that was how Vox always expressed his emotions.

Angel had only ever seen Vox while he was with Val. He never saw the television demon on his own, without Valentino hovering over their shoulders. Somehow, Angel never realized that he stood a whole head above Vox. The overlord always seemed so much larger standing next to Valentino, but now he looked almost... normal.

“Fuck, uh... hey?”

“So...” Vox trailed off, his screen changing filters over his regular face. “Uh, you’re up early.”

“So are you.”

“This is normally when I get food,” Vox admitted, his shoulders relaxing a little. “I don’t want to upset the other patrons so I try to avoid high traffic times.”

“Huh?” Angel blinked in surprise.

“Huh what?”

“Why would ya do that?”

“Because I know how people see me,” Vox shrugged. “And I promised Charlie that I wouldn’t cause any problems.”

“Right, th’ contract she made for ya,” Angel suddenly remembered what the Princess had said as she led Vox into the hotel that day. “How’s, uh... how’s that goin’?”

“Good,” Vox moved to the fridge, very clearly leaving as much space in between himself and Angel as physically possible. “Nothing too impossible to follow, especially now that Val is...”

He trailed off. They both tensed at the name.

“It’s kinda impressive that ya managed three months without anyone seein’ ya.” Angel said. He screwed the cap on and off of his bottle.

“I can be good at avoiding people if I need to be.”

“Has Smiles given’ ya any shit?”

“Alastor? Surprisingly no,” Vox let out a single huff of a chuckle. Angel felt himself smirk a little at the reaction. “I thought he'd be more... against me being here but after you stood up for me, he seemed much more alright with it.”

“Yeah,” Angel’s smile softened. “He can be a good guy.”

“I get the impression you two are close.” It wasn’t a question.

“Mm,” the fluttering feeling was back in Angel’s chest. “He’s... he treats me real good. It almost feels like a dream sometimes.”

“I can imagine...” Vox’s screen dimmed. Angel felt his smile drop.

He had Alastor, and it was a support system Angel never thought he would deserve. He had someone to hold him when his nightmares got too much or when he wanted to hurt himself or just when he wanted a hug. He had someone to stay up late with and read in silence with, or dance in the parlor with.

Vox didn’t have anyone. He had Charlie, but that was different. It was more professional, more distant. Now that Valentino was gone, Vox had no one.

“We normally hang out in th’ parla ‘round seven,” Angel said abruptly. Vox just stared at him, confusion written on his face without need for visual cues. “Me, Smiles, Charlie. Vaggie, Nifts and Husky. No one else comes in cuz apparently when we’re all togetha we’re intimidatin’ or some shit. If ya wanted ta join us, ya wouldn’t hafta worry ‘bout scarin’ any a’ th’ patrons.”

“You’d be alright with that?” Vox had never sounded so... small - not even when he realized Valentino had used him.

“We’re all ‘ere fa th’ same reason,” Angel offered the shorter demon a lopsided smirk, which was hesitantly returned. “Besides, if Cha Cha hasn’t kicked ya out by now, it means she trusts ya at least a lil bit.”

“I see...”

“I gotta go do somethin’ but I’ll be expectin’ ya at some point, aight?”

“Alright...” Vox trailed off. Angel nodded to him before leaving, only to be stopped at the last second by a softer tone. “And Angel? Thanks. For giving me a second chance. I know those are rare in Hell.”

“I know betta than anyone what it’s like ta be played with by Val,” Angel gripped the door frame tightly. “Ain’t no one deserves ta be treated like that.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Vox wrung his hands. “I’ve been... I didn’t know how to say it without sounding condescending or fake, but I-”

“It’s aight,” Angel cut him off. “I ain’t mad no more. I get why ta did what ya did. I ain’t gonna hold that shit against ya.”

The shorter demon just stared at him, as if he was waiting for Angel to scream ‘sike’ and laugh at how gullible he was. When that didn’t happen, Vox found himself relaxing a little. Angel didn’t say anything else. Vox watched the spider leave the kitchen, the room now empty as if it had only ever just been him.

Angel made his way back to his room. Somehow his talk with Vox made him feel a little bit better. Maybe it was because it took his mind off the nightmare, or because it gave him closure that he hadn’t realized he needed. Either way, his hands were steady as he opened his door.

He wanted to try to go back to sleep for a little while, but he knew he needed to write the dream out first. He had learned the hard way that when Charlie asks what happened, he needs to tell her. Speaking about the dreams was so, SO much worse than writing them down and letting Charlie read through the pages during their session together. It took a little while to recap the dream, sparing as many of the gory details as possible, and by the time he was closing his journal his hand was cramping.

Angel crawled back under his covers, pulling Fat Nuggets close. The pig grumbled faintly before curling into Angel’s fluff, their breathing instantly evening out again. Angel’s eyes fell shut as he felt the stress in his body melt into the mattress.

* * *

“Angel, my dear, you’re quieter than usual,” Alastor commented. It was evening, just after dinner. Charlie offered for anyone to join the meal in the dining room, though only a handful of patrons outside of the main staff actually stayed for the ‘family dinner’. Once they clean up the staff would migrate to the main parlor, just off of the lobby. Alastor and Angel sat at the bar as Husk did his best to build a card tower with help from Charlie as Vaggie watched from the couch, occasionally taking pictures as she scrolled through her phone. Niffty was perched on the edge of the bar, her little feet swinging back and forward as she knit something that roughly resembled a sweater. “Is something the matter?”

“Rough night,” Angel offered a small smile. Charlie glanced over at him, knowing exactly what had happened to make the spider so subdued. She had praised Angel for being so open about his nightmare, and for bringing it to her without her needing to prod. “It’s aight.”

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah, but it’s ain’t a big deal,” Angel could almost still feel the weight of Alastor’s lifeless body against his chest, but it pushed it aside. He didn’t need to fall back in that hole.

“Nightmares ‘appen, ain’t nothin’ I can do ‘bout it.”

“Would you like me to stay with you tonight?” Alastor asked, his voice heavy with what no one other than Husk, Niffty and Angel recognized - guilt.

“If ya want,” He offered a small smile as he down the rest of his drink. “Don’t push yaself though.”

Because Angel knew Alastor was going through one of his touch-adverse times. They happened less and less, but they still snuck up on them. Angel learned to read Alastor’s body language easily, and was able to predict his mood before even Al himself seemed to know.

“Um... hi?” A voice came from the entryway of the parlor. Everyone turned and froze, all eyes glued to Vox, who seemed to be hesitating just outside of the room.

“What’s he doing here?” Vaggie mumbled, just loud enough for those closest to hear.

“Vox!” Charlie gave him a tight smile. “I’m so glad you decided to join us!”

“There ya are,” Angel chimed in, his tone much more relaxed than Charlie’s. He saw how Vox seemed to lean towards where he was sitting. “I was wonderin’ if ya’d show.”

“I thought it would be a nice change of pace,” He admitted. He was dressed for the day, but even that was more casual than what he used to wear. Now he was wearing dark blue slacks and a white button down with the sleeves rolled up. Angel figured he was only a few months away from sweatpants and sweaters, falling into the pit of comfort just as Alastor had after much needling by the spider. “Is... this alright?”

“A course,” Angel scoffed. “Wanna drink?”

“I probably shouldn’t...”

“Ya can get somethin’ non-alcoholic.”

“Oh, in that case I wouldn’t mind something.” Vox seemed to perk up a little. Angel though he was almost... cute.

Angel glanced at Husk, silently asking if he’d rather the spider take care of the drinks. He shook his head and stood, grumbling as he cracked his back before going behind the bar to mix up some drinks for them.

“I really am glad you decided to hang out with us,” Charlie grinned at Vox, her face much more genuine. “You’ve made so much progress!”

“I guess...” He trailed off again. Angel realized he had a habit of doing that when he felt out of place or anxious. Once again, Angel found Vox was more of a real person rather than this untouchable overlord he had once been.

“Oh! I can grab the uno cards and we can-” Her excitement was cut off by the sound of television feedback. Vox blinked before letting his screen switch to the new station. Everyone gathered around to see whatever was important enough to be told on a last minute broadcast.

“Breaking news!” Katie Killjoy grinned. “New information from the Lust District! Just moments ago we were informed of some juicy gossip!”

“Gossip isn’t the only juicy thing from the Lust District, if you know what I mean.” Tom commented, his words slightly muffled from his mask. Katie’s eye twitched but she didn’t acknowledge that her co host had said anything.

“After almost four months of radio silence, Overlord Valentino has been spotted back in the porn studios,” She held her papers but didn’t even glance down at them once. “This is big news seeing how the King of Cum himself seemed to vanish from under the pentagram, leaving his territory to fall into absolute chaos.”

“Now the only question is,” Tom Trench chimed back in. “Where is Vox? The Overlord normally glued to Valentino’s side has been MIA, falling off the grid just weeks after Val did. The strangest part? His territories are running smooth as usual! Is there some connection? Was Vox the root of Val’s disappearance? Or vise versa?”

“That’s all we have for now,” Katie cut Tom off. “We’ll report more as soon as it comes in, so keep your televisions on everybody!”

Vox quickly turned the news off, which only amplified the complete, absolute silence of the parlor. No one moved. Angel couldn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat, his throat closing, choking him.

“Breath, darling,” Alastor’s voice broke through the panic building in Angel’s mind. “He cannot hurt you again. I will make sure of that.”

Angel leaned into Alastor’s side, tucking his shaking body against the other demon’s warmth. As tall as he was, Angel could make himself quite small when he wanted to. He let Al’s words comfort him, until they didn’t anymore. He looked over at Vox, who was staring blankly at the bar, his screen glitching every few seconds.

Angel had Alastor to protect him. He had the hotel. Vox didn’t have anyone to take care of him - to shield him should Valentino come looking. Sure, Charlie vowed to look after everyone under the care of the hotel, but it was an unspoken fact that she would fight harder for Angel and the rest of the staff than anyone else.

“He won’t getcha,” He whispered, reaching out. Vox flinched away from the hand, looking at the spider with flickering faces. Angel could see flashes of images - vines wrapping around someone’s throat, an old fashioned television with the screen bashed in, a body wrapped in chains, curled into a ball. Others followed, but they were going too quickly for Angel to describe. “Charlie and Al have this unda control. He can’t get ta eitha of us here.”

“But what if-” His voice wavered.

“We gotcha back,” Angel smiled at him. He could feel it was a weak, small smile, but a smile nonetheless. Vox stared for a moment before returning with a smaller, weaker smile of his own. “Don’t worry.”

“We don’t know what his plans are,” Vaggie said, her face twisted in anger. “We need to make precautionary plans for anything he might throw at us.”

“If he just came back, he’s going to be focusing on getting his shit together,” Husk pointed out. “Four months without an overlord is gonna mean one huge shit-show.”

“We should start with having someone on watch,” Charlie said, tugging at the ends of her hair. “Tomorrow we can plan more, but as long as there’s at least someone awake and guarding the front, we should be alright for a few hours.”

“I can-” Alastor started, only to be cut off by frantically waving hands.

“No! No you should be with Angel right now,” She said. “Husk, since you normally watch the desk until two, I can just come down and take over rather than leaving the desk empty until seven like usual.”

“I’ll stay up with you,” Vaggie offered. “It’ll be better to have two able bodies.”

“Vox,” Charlie addressed the overlord, who had been quiet this whole time. “Will you be alright? I know you’re kinda isolated from everyone.”

“I’ll be fine,” He didn’t sound fine at all. “Focus on what you need to.”

Charlie opened her mouth as if to argue, but her attention was drawn away by the sound of multiple pairs of feet rushing towards the parlor. The other patrons must have seen the news cast as well, and were desperate for more information. She jumped to action, meeting the chattering crowd halfway. Angel could hear her trying to get their attention but had his own attention pulled away by Alastor taking his hand.

“Let’s go back to your room.” He whispered. Angel glanced at Vox, who just smiled and nodded. He felt bad leaving the other demon, who only just felt comfortable enough to sit with them, but the idea of being in his own bed was too tempting. Angel smiled back before letting Alastor pull him through his shadow.

His room was exactly as he left it that morning, but somehow that felt like eons ago. So much had changed in the span of a single day that Angel felt that he needed a nice week long coma to recover from it.

“Angel, look at me?”

Angel did as he was asked, looking Alastor in the eyes. Worry was painted clearly on the shorter demon’s face, not concerned about keeping up appearances now that it was just the two of them.

“I’m scared.” He admitted, wrapping all four arms around his torso. He was so bad at expressing his emotions, especially if they’re negative. He and Charlie had been working through that roadblock, so him admitting it so bluntly was a huge step for him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Alastor said, voice soft but serious. “Valentino will never get through me.”

Angel’s dream flashed through his mind, making his chest tighten. What if Alastor were to be killed by Valentino? What if something were to happen? What if Alastor were to lose control and level the city? What if Angel was going to have to kill Alastor to save everyone else and have to feel Alastor’s life drain from his body and his blood soak into his clothing and feel Alastor’s heart stop beating for the last time and have to be the one to scream into Alastor’s dead chest, begging for his partner back-

“Angel,” Alastor grabbed the spider’s face, forcing Angel to look at him. “You need to breathe or you’re going to pass out. It’s going to be okay.”

“But-”

“None of that now,” Alastor’s face softened. His grip on Angel’s chin shifted to cupping his cheek, his thumb caressing the fur under his eye, just ghosting over the spots. “What can I do?”

“Stay.” Angel whimpered, gulping back a sob.

“Of course, sha.” Alastor pulled Angel closer, covering his soft hiccuping cries with soft kisses - over his cheeks, over his forehead, over his eyelids. He kissed the corners of Angel’s mouth and the back of Angel’s knuckles.

They fell onto the bed, Angel curling into Alastor’s arms. Alastor held him close, pushing down the twisting feeling in his gut. He found he was getting more and more comfortable with touching Angel, but sometimes it just... wasn’t right. Despite not feeling right, he pushed through it - for Angel’s sake.

Angel needed comfort now more than ever, and he wasn’t going to leave the spider alone when he could easily make the other feel safe.

Holding Angel was a lot like sleeping with him. Alastor had no real interest in it in the way others do, but he did have an interest in making Angel happy. He had an interest in giving Angel a sense of comfort. He had interest in seeing Angel’s eyes roll back as his body goes limp - not because he was horny, but because he loved taking Angel apart.

Angel felt himself drifting off to sleep. He always slept better with Alastor nearby, even if the other demon was on his separate side of the bed. Just knowing Alastor was close was enough to put his mind at ease, because he knew nothing bad would happen to him as long as his Radio Demon was watching over him.

Remnants of his dream faded as he thought about the last date they had gone on. The happy, bubbling feeling from that night replaced the inky, thick fear that had rooted itself in his lungs.

He sighed, the last of the tension fading from his body.

* * *

“It’s been a week,” Vaggie said. “When is he going to make his move?”

“Isn’t it a good thing that he hasn’t done anything?” Charlie tried, giving his girlfriend a weak smile.

“No, because it means he has more time to plot against us!” Vaggie wanted to believe the other woman’s optimism, but she knew better. She knew how overlords worked, and there was no way Valentino wasn’t planning something.

“What if we attacked first?” Niffty asked, looking up at the others. “Take him by surprise?”

“That would start a turf war and it would be our fault this time,” Charlie frowned, biting her thumbnail. “Which would mean we’d be inherently at fault. You only start a turf war if you think you’re strong enough to take their territory and I really, really don’t want to be in control of the porn industry. No offense Angel.”

“None taken Toots,” Angel snickered. He was only on hiatus from his work for a short while. He was waiting until he felt comfortable in his own skin again - he still felt guilty masturbating after the conversation he had with Charlie about hyper-sexuality. He didn’t feel dirty when Alastor did it though, which was a good sign. “Don’t blame ya. Too much work.”

“We still have to do something,” Charlie continued, her face pinched. “The other patrons are getting scared. We had three check-outs just today.”

“Too bad you can’t just... walk up to him and tell him to fuck off right to his face.” Husk grumbled, watching the last bit of liquid in his bottle swirl around the bottom of the bottle, not drinking it. Charlie went silent for a moment before brightening.

“Hon, no-” Vaggie recognized that look.

“I’ll just go talk to him!” She grinned, jumping to her feet. “I’ll make a truce between us so we can both protect our territories!”

“Absolutely not-”

“Are ya insane!?”

“I don’t know if-”

“We don’t have any other ideas, do we?” Charlie challenged, cutting off all the protests and looking at her friends one at a time. “What else can we do?”

“I think it might be a good idea,” A new voice chimed in. Vox entered the parlor, his screen flickering with various emotions. “Even if he was an ass, I still know him pretty well. If he’s been quiet for this long, it’s because there’s something up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Val has never been the type to sit by silently,” Vox spat the name like a curse. “If he wanted a fight, he would have been here before the news segment aired. The fact that it’s been a whole week of silence proves something’s going on with him.”

“Do you think I’ll be in danger if I go?” Charlie asked the overlord.

“My dear, this is Hell,” Vox shook his head a little. “You're in danger every moment of every day. Even someone as strong as you would be in danger in another overlord’s territory, but if you’re asking if I think Val will outright attack you? No, I don’t think he would.”

“Then it’s decided!”

“No!? It’s not!?” Vaggie jumped to her feet, physically putting herself between her girlfriend and the parlor entrance. “I can’t let you do this!”

“Alastor will go with me,” Charlie said, far too much confidence in her voice. “With him there, I have extra manpower! It’ll be fine Vaggie.”

“Fine? Hon, this isn’t some random demon,” Vaggie was getting desperate. “This is Valentino! He tried to kill us. He attacked the hotel!”

“If he really has changed, I think we should give him a chance.” The confidence decreased but she didn’t back down.

“But-”

“Look,” Her shoulders slumped as she took Vaggie’s hands in her own. “We gave Vox a chance, and he’s doing so well. I really do believe everyone has a little light in them, even someone like Valentino.”

“You cannot bring him into the hotel,” Vaggie’s voice dropped. “You can’t do that to Angel.”

“Of course not,” Charlie offered a comforting smile. “I just want to talk, that’s it.”

“And Alastor’s going with you?”

“Yeah! Right, Al?” She glanced over her shoulder to where Alastor was muttering softly into Angel’s fur on the side of his head. Both demons looked up, their eyes boring into Charlie’s for a moment before blinking.

“Don’t fret, Vagatha,” Alastor grinned and stepped to stand behind Charlie. “I will ensure our darling Demon Belle returns home safe and sound!”

“What if-”

“I know you’re just worried, but please trust me on this?” Charlie’s voice was borderline begging, and there was nothing Vaggie could do but sigh.

“I do trust you,” She conceded. “I just... I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you...”

Angel felt the same. He never thought he would understand how Vaggie felt, because what she and the Princess had was so good and genuine and he was... not those things.

Now that he does have someone he couldn’t bring himself to lose, he was even more afraid of Al not coming home again. What would he do? How would he cope with the first person he ever truly loved being taken from him so soon after finding him?

“Don’t forget,” Charlie’s grin turned playful. For a split second, her full demon form flashed across her face. “I have a few tricks up my sleeves.”

“My big, strong Princess.” Vaggie hummed, her eyes softening in affection.

“We should go now,” Charlie let go of Vaggie’s hands and turned to Alastor, who was looking at Angel over the top of the Princess' head. They had been having a silent conversation, making wordless promises to each other. “Ready?”

“Of course my dear!” He trilled, his radio voice growing in volume. “This is going to be oh so very entertaining! I certainly am looking forward to speaking with Valentino after all these months...”

His face grew dark, his teeth sharpening and his antlers branching slightly. Charlie leaned away, her endless optimism edging towards fear as she looked at the murderous look on her friend’s face.

Angel watched them leave with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew they could handle themselves, especially against Valentino who, at the moment, was probably very weak after Alastor ripped him apart. If it took him over three months to heal properly, Al must have done more damage than Angel initially assumed.

“I’m gonna go ta my room,” He said softly. He couldn’t be around people anymore. He needed to be alone, or he was going to completely break down. The anxiety weighed down his chest, making it hard to breathe. It felt like his heart was being squeezed to the point of bursting and it scared him. “I, uh, yeah.”

He all but ran from the parlor, his long legs taking him up three steps at a time. He knew the others would be concerned, but he couldn't bring himself to spare a proper goodbye before slamming the door shut behind him and throwing himself onto his bed.

The covers were neatly placed, not a wrinkle to be seen thanks to Niffty’s precise and almost scarily competent housekeeping skills. He curled in on himself, trying to find some comfort in the warmth of the blankets.

There was the faint smell of spices that clung to the pillows, which only served to twist the knife that had shoved itself into his heart.

Angel dug his claws into his palms. He needed to calm down. He couldn’t let himself spiral like this, because if he spiraled, he would panic and if he panicked he would relapse and if he relapsed, Alastor would be upset - not at him, but for him, which was almost worst because it means he let Alastor down and-

He felt claws pierce skin. The thick scent of iron filled his senses as the choking pressure receded some. Focusing on the pain, Angel took a deep breath.

They would be fine. Alastor was an overlord. He was the Radio Demon! Valentino was...

Valentino was just one of the most powerful overlords in all of Hell, having reigned over the Lust District unchallenged for over a century. Not even Alastor thought to try to usurp him when he first began his rampage through Hell. He was just Angel Dust’s boss, who abused him and used him as a walking cum-filled piggy bank. He was just the demon that convinced Angel that he loved the spider, to make sure he had complete control over him.

Just the one that still haunted Angel’s dreams, leaving ghost bruises on his wrists and throat and hips and thighs that no number of showers could wash away completely. Just the one that sent him into panic attacks that had him lashing out against Alastor in fear.

Angel whimpered into his blankets. Alastor was going to face Valentino, and Angel had no way of knowing if his Radio Demon would ever come back to him. He wanted to believe Vox, because Vox had been proving himself to be genuinely attempting to better himself. He had been working with Charlie and had been apologizing to Angel for everything he had done in different ways, as per Charlie’s suggestion - apparently, the shuffling outside of his door that night was Vox attempting to bring himself to knock on Angel’s door to attempt an apology. He wouldn’t accept that Angel already forgave him, because he was understanding just how badly he had fucked up. He wanted to believe Vox, but decades of fear aren’t erased by a handful of good encounters.

“Fuck...” He bit his lip. He was trying his best not to cry, but it was hard when his breathing was picking up faster and faster. He was panicking, but nothing he did seemed to help - in fact, he felt it getting worse with each inhale.

He knew one way to make the pressure go away. He weighed his options - either he could wait this out and feel like he was dying for who knew how long, or he could....

He would feel awful later, but he would be able to breathe again.

That was all it took. Angel took a shuddering breath and dug his claws into his arms, ripping them downwards. His skin gave easily, like a knife through paper. Blood instantly drenched his fur, dripping down and puddling on the bedding. He choked on a scream, but it wasn’t enough. The pain in his chest was still there, his vision going black around the edges, but so was the choking pressure in his chest. He wished Alastor was there. Alastor was so good at helping him through panic attacks, but Alastor wasn’t there because he was talking to Valentino, who could kill him and take him away from Angel for the rest of eternity. Alastor would die and Angel would have to spend the rest of his afterlife trying to recover from the hole it would leave in his chest.

He dug his claws into his stomach, needing something more. The pain was blinding, but as he gasped a full breath a manic giggle fell from trembling lips. He laughed again, tears streaming down his face as he gouged his stomach, his thighs, his upper back. He wanted it to hurt, and hurt it did.

His laughter quickly turned to heartbreaking sobs as he doubled over, curling in on himself as tightly as possible. His fur was stained crimson and he could already feel it beginning to mat, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. When the blood dried, he would have to rip some of it out in order to stand but he didn’t care. What was a little more pain to add to what he was already feeling?

The guilt began to set in. When Charlie and Alastor got back, they would be so disappointed in him for being so damn weak.

IF Charlie and Alastor got back.

Angel screamed into his hands. This was all his fault. Vox was right - none of this would have happened without Angel. Valentino never would have attacked the hotel. He never would have been in a position to hurt Alastor on Angel’s behalf. Angel never should have left the porn studios. He was a whore, and he should have known he would never be anything else. If he had stayed in his place, his aid in the turf war with Cherri would never have affected the Hotel, therefore Alastor never would have wanted to be a sponsor.

Angel and Alastor never would have crossed paths. They had their own circles and there were barely any situations where they would cross - maybe, if Alastor tried to take Val’s territory. In that case, maybe he would have been the one to kill some pretty, stupid slut with four arms and two different colored eyes who was too drugged out of his mind to even realize what was happening.

That’s all he should ever be, but he tried to change that and now Alastor is walking into the den of the beast, all because of him.

He thought he was going to pass out, and the phantom feeling of hands on his fur didn’t help the feeling of losing control. There was no one there, so why was he feeling fingers trying to pry his face away from his hands?

The phantom sensations stopped and Angel figured he was about to faint. Why else would he be hearing Alastor’s voice?

“Mon Ange? What have you- ANGEL!”

Angel’s world went black.

* * *

Alastor and Charlie stepped out of the shadow portal right in front of the studio. It was exactly as Alastor remembered it, not that he had been in the area all that often. The last time had been... when Angel called out for him to save him from Valentino. Charlie took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, walking into the lobby of the studios. She held the door open for Alastor, which was appreciated.

“I believe Valentino has returned. Am I correct?” Alastor approached the desk worker. He wasn’t there to play games, but by how the girl behind the desk seemed to shake, he could tell it was going to be a delicate situation. “Please, just let us through and there will be... minimal carnage.”

“O-of course!” She squeaked. “Take the elevator all the way up. Ya can’t miss his office.”

“Thank you!” Charlie grinned. “Have a nice day!”

“Y-you too...” The desk worker watched the Princess of Hell and the Radio Demon waltz towards the elevator and wondered if this was going to be the last day of her afterlife. “I’m too pretty to double die...”

“You didn’t have to scare her like that.” Charlie scolded lightly as she pressed the button for the top floor.

“My dear, that could have gone much worse,” Alastor grinned. “Besides, I’m saving the real show for Valentino.”

His grin tightened, his face darkening again. Charlie subconsciously took a step to the side, letting out a weak chuckle. The ride up to Valentino’s office was a short one, but the hall that led to the door seemed to stretch on for miles.

Charlie raised a hand to knock, but Alastor bypassed her politeness and threw the door open, letting the knob slam into the drywall, leaving a hole. Valentino was sitting at his desk, as they had expected, except he wasn’t the same.

He was wearing a simple pinstripe suit, his usual red coat nowhere to be seen. His heart sunglasses had been replaced with round, wire-rimmed reading glasses and his tophat was now a fedora that matched his suit, his one antenna still sticking out to look like a feather plume. He looked up at the sudden intrusion, his face twisting before falling suspiciously blank.

“Welcome back to the world of the sinning, my friend!” Alastor trilled, his feedback making his voice echo despite the amount of carpeting and fabric couches. “I must say, you took a tad longer than I expected to come crawling back into the spotlight.”

“Well, can’t speed up healing,” Valentino kept writing whatever document he was working on when they walked in. “Especially when you’re quite literally turned into ground beef.”

“Ah, I believe that is my fault,” Alastor let out a fake chuckle, his laugh track playing for emphasis. “In my defense, you were on my turf, and I don’t take very kindly to trespassers.”

“Ain’t that what you’re doing now?” Valentino’s eyes flicked up towards them, his pen pausing for just a moment before returning to its scribbling again.

“This is quite a different visit, I promise,” Alastor let his teeth show. “Princess Charlotte and I simply wish to... discuss a few things with you.”

“I’m busy.”

“As as we, so let’s do us both a favor and make this quick,” Alastor tilted his head to the side, his grin softening to something more sensual. Charlie recognized that face to mean that Al was planning to get the upper hand in a deal. It was the same face he made when he first came to the hotel and tried to make an agreement with her. “It’s been... what? A week since your return? And you’ve been awfully quiet. Is everything alright, my dear demon?”

“What’s it to ya?” Valentino’s hand tightened, the plastic of his pen cracking faintly under the sudden pressure. “I haven’t done shit to you. I’ve been trying to clean up the shit show of my territory for the last week and I still have a fuck ton left, so if that’s all you wanted-”

“Ah, ah, ah! That’s not all,” Alastor cut him off. Valentino’s lip curled but let the red clad demon continue without interruption. “We wish to clarify your intentions. With the hotel, with Vox... and with Angel.”

Valentino finally put his pen down, the plastic barely making a sound as it was placed against the polished wood. There was a beat of silence, both Alastor and Charlie tensing in preparation for an attack. When none came, they couldn’t hide their visible confusion.

“I have no business with the hotel,” He said after a moment. He flipped through a few papers, not looking up at his guests. “I have my hands full enough as it is with my own territory. I have nothing to gain from yours. As for Vox...” He paused before taking a deep, calming breath. “He is free to do as he pleases. We have no official contract or agreement.”

“And Angel Dust?” Alastor tried to keep his voice level, but it was clearly strained. It was enough that Valentino glanced up, one eyebrow rising in acknowledgement. There was another beat of silence before Valentino leaned back in his chair.

“His contract is yours.” He waved, a piece of paper appearing in the air. Alastor felt his breath catch in his throat. Angel’s soul was floating mere inches from his face. All he had to do was reach out and-

“What do you want from us?” Charlie interjected, making Alastor pause.

“What?”

“Demons don’t do things for free,” She lifted her chin, looking at Valentino with more confidence than the young princess had ever shown previously. “What do you want in exchange for the contract?”

“Like I said, you can have it,” Valentino’s lip curled faintly. “I’ve had my fill of you, your stupid fucking hotel, and everyone involved with it. Trust me, after what Grinny Fucin’ McGee over there did to me, I ain’t trying to start shit again.”

“Really?” Charlie’s confident face dropped a little.

“You think I want to have my ass literally shredded again?” Valentino let out a harsh laugh. “Think again babe. I’m content getting my shit together here for now. Give me a few decades and maybe I’ll try to fuck with you but right now? Don’t need that shit to top off the fuckin shit pile I already have to deal with.”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Charlie may be young, and sometimes naive, and more often than not too optimistic for her own good, but she was not stupid.

Valentino sighed heavily before grabbing a blank piece of paper. He quickly scribbled something down, making a big deal of signing the bottom of it.

“Here,” He waved his hand, the paper suddenly appearing in Charlie’s hand. “If this is up to your standards, could you fuckin’ leave? I have work to do.”

“One moment....” Charlie trailed off, reading the contract.

_I, Valentino, Overlord of the Lust District, will take no violent actions against Princess Charlotte, The Happy Hotel or it’s patrons for the next one hundred years. After that one hundred years, this contract is void. During the time of this contract, Princess Charlotte, The Happy Hotel or anyone under its protection cannot incite violence against Valentino or the Lust District._

Alastor read over her shoulder, his grin dropping slightly as he took in the meaning of the paper the woman was holding. It was signed, which meant it was binding, but it seemed... too easy. Especially from Valentino.

“What do you gain from all of this?” Alastor asked slowly.

“Like I said, I have too much shit to deal with right now and I don’t need you fuckasses knocking on my door looking for a fight,” Valentino snapped, his face twisting.

“Besides... I won’t have my full power back for a while. There’s no point in throwing myself into a fight that’s going to be that uneven. I’m an overlord, not an idiot. I know when to back off.”

“I see...” Charlie trailed off, her eyes wide in surprise.

“In that case, I shall be taking this.” Alastor reached out for Angel’s contract, which was still floating in the air.

Just as his hand was about to grab the paper, Alastor’s shadow burst from his feet. It’s face was clearly distressed, its eyes and mouth glowing brighter than Charlie had ever seen. It got right up in Al’s face, not making any noise but clearly expressing something to its owner.

“Angel?” Alastor’s voice was soft, no feedback. Charlie felt her stomach drop - she had never heard such... fear in Alastor’s voice. The only time that came close was when Angel had his arm ripped off.

“Al-” She reached out, only to freeze at the expression on Alastor’s face. His smile was completely gone, his cheeks pale and his pupils as small as they could go. Even Valentino sat forward in his chair, realizing something was very wrong with the Radio Demon.

“Go to him,” he ordered, his voice thick. “Don’t let him be alone.”

“What’s going on?” Charlie tugged on Alastor’s sleeve.

“I- I have to go,” It was clear he was doing his best to sound calm and was failing miserably. “You... you can handle things here, correct?”

“Y-yeah,” She choked out. “Is- is Angel alright?”

“Let’s pray to Lucifer that he is.” Alastor growled, his antlers growing as he summoned a portal so strong that the papers on Valentino’s desk were whipped around. He stepped through it, leaving Charlie in Val’s office. A part of his mind commented on how bad that would look, especially to Vaggie, but the only thought on the forefront of his mind was getting to Angel.

His shadow had shown him what it had seen - Angel, sobbing and clawing his skin open and curling into a small ball in the center of his bed, staining his blankets.

The moment he stepped out into Angel’s room, his stomach sank. The smell of blood was so strong it made his stomach growl and flip at the same time. His shadow hovered over the form on the bed, it’s transparent hands desperately trying to comfort Angel, who’s sobs were soft and trembling.

“Mon Ange... what have you-” Alastor’s throat closed. It was so much worse than he initially thought. The blankets, already a dark pink, were the same shade of his own suit, dyed completely crimson by Angel’s blood. Angel lay there, his eyes half open and staring vacantly into space. He didn’t give any indication that he heard Alastor at all. He let out one last shuddering breath before falling completely limp. “ANGEL-”

Alastor picked Angel up, searching for a heartbeat. He only let himself breathe when he felt the fluttering beneath his fingertips. He knew something as simple as blood loss wouldn’t be enough to take Angel from him entirely, but he didn’t know how he would manage, waiting on his own for Angel to heal himself enough to wake up again.

“It’s alright,” He whispered, green light filling the room as he healed the gouges. They were so deep, the pink stained fur parting to show the true lengths that Angel had gone through to stop his panic attack. “I’m so sorry I wasn't here, my love.”

Only once Angel’s wounds were completely closed did Alastor carry the spider towards the bathroom. Angel was still unconscious, but Alastor knew he wouldn’t want to wake up covered in crusting blood. He placed Angel in the empty bathtub before beginning to fill it with lukewarm water. Making sure Angel wouldn’t slip below the rising water, Alastor turned to his shadow, which was lurking in the corner of the bathroom.

“Go back to Charlie,” He ordered. “Report to me if needed.”

His shadow saluted dramatically before slipping away through the puddles of darkness that were cast by the shitty bathroom lighting. Alastor turned back to Angel and began carefully scrubbing the blood from his fur.

He knew it was going to take a while. He just hoped Angel would stay asleep until he was properly healed. He didn’t want him waking up and still be in pain. Alastor took a deep breath through his mouth, ignoring how Angel’s blood seemed to sing to him.

* * *

  
Angel woke up with a jolt. He sat up, his heart racing so hard he could feel his rib cage aching from the violent beating. It took him a moment to realize where he was, and when he recognized his surroundings he found himself even more confused.

Why was he in Alastor’s room? What happened? He shifted and felt his skin tug, as if it was too tight all of a sudden. His stomach twisted as the night before came crashing back all at once.

Alastor and Charlie going to confront Valentino. His panic attack. Relapsing. Feeling phantom comforts. Imagining Alastor’s voice before passing out...

Though he probably didn’t imagine it if he was in Alastor’s room. How did Al know to find him?

“Sha?” Alastor’s voice - his real voice, with no radio frequencies or feedback. “You ‘wake?”

“Mm, yeah...” His throat hurt. His head hurt too.

“G’morning,” Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, making Angel dip slightly towards him. “I was wonderin’ when you’d join us.”

“How long was I out fa?” Angel ran his fingers through his bangs. He grimaced at how many knots snagged on his claws.

“Only a few hours,” Alastor offered a small smile. Angel recognized the dark bags under his eyes - had Alastor slept at all? “And before you start to worry, everything with Valentino went... surprisingly well.”

Angel’s eyes widened as he sat up straighter.

“What ‘appened?” He asked, almost afraid to know the answer. Sure, Al said it went well, but what if there was something he wasn’t telling Angel?

“For one,” Alastor snapped his fingers, calling forth a piece of paper. It was rolled neatly and closed with Charlie’s personal wax seal. Angel took it with trembling fingers. “I believe this belongs to you.”

“Is this...?” He was afraid to hope.

“He gave us back your contract, as well as a new one promising that he wouldn’t try to cause any harm to the hotel or its patrons, as long as we do the same.” Alastor watched the awe in Angel’s eyes. Much to his delight, Angel’s pink markings began to glow faintly. That only happened when the spider was feeling euphoric.

“Why would ‘e-”

“Apparently, being turned into sludge was enough to put him in his place,” Alastor’s grin turned feral. “According to him, it’s not worth spending another three months slowly piecing himself together if we were to cross paths again.”

“Neva thought I’d see th’ day where Val... backs down.” Angel stared at his contract, as if he was expecting it to burst into flames.

“I had to inform Charlie about what happened,” Alastor sounded apologetic. Angel grimaced. “She was there when my shadow alerted me that you needed me, so she found me to ask about it. She wants you to find her for a talk when you’re feeling up to it.”

“Fuck...” He let his head fall onto his knees, which were drawn up to his chest.

“You don’t have to do it just yet,” Alastor said, gently holding Angel’s face in one hand. “I wouldn’t mind a little longer to rest. What about you?”

“You know I’m always down for a nap with ya,” Angel smiled warmly. They fell onto the bed, Alastor’s body heat instantly replacing what had been let out when Angel moved from under the blankets. “Hey Smiles?”

“Mm?”

“Love ya.”

“And I you, cher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!! I know I said it was over, but I really wanted to write more for the fandom and was having trouble coming up with ideas that could be turned into longer fics. That being said, if there's any plot you'd like to see written out, let me know and I'll credit you for the inspiration! 
> 
> Credit to @Rinnax3 on twitter for the idea for the dream sequence! They drew a heartbreaking short comic about it, and I HIGHLY recommend checking out their other art. It's honestly so good 
> 
> I hope this was what those who asked for an epilogue had hoped for XD I know it's basically a oneshot all on its own, and I considered posting it as it's own fic, creating a series for the main story and the epilogue but realized if I added it to the main story I could have an even ten chapters and that's so sexy of me XD 
> 
> If anyone wants to to be my friend - please do I want to talk about HH but none of my friends are as into it as I am :') - my tumblr is @itsalwaysagoodtimetoeatcake2 , which is where most of my HH content is including my doodles. My main twitter is @25boyfriends with is mostly Kpop and MDZS but I also have an NSFW @bidisasterwwx where I'm active lmao

**Author's Note:**

> With this being my first HH fic, I really hope I kept the dialogue and interactions somewhat in character! I know it won't be exact, because (like most of my MDZS fics) they're going to be actually addressing their problems so there won't be as much deflecting. That being said, if any of the characters are too OOC please let me know how to fix it for the rest of the fic! I'd like to keep writing for this fandom at some point, and I want to keep things as in character as I can!
> 
> I adored the pilot when it first came out, but with the Addict MV I've fallen even more in love with this universe. Usually when I start to get obsessed with new media, it's the entire media that I get obsessed with (Kpop, MDZS, past fandoms that I shall not name) but with this it's Angel Dust that instantly captured my attention. Even when I first saw him he was the one character that drew my eye every single time! Between his design, and his characterization and his backstory, he's one of the most interesting characters I've seen in a long time!


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